


Howling Dark

by Roach99



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roach99/pseuds/Roach99
Summary: For us, the storm has passed. The war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark and did not return. For their decision required courage beyond measure, sacrifice, and unshakable conviction that their fight, our fight, was elsewhere. ... A memorial to heroes fallen. They ennobled all of us, and they shall not be forgotten.(Part 1: Fate/Zero)
Kudos: 19





	1. Objective Omega

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted from FFN, posting here upon request of a friend.

Everything hurt.

He could barely breathe, gusts of sand and microshards of glass filled his still-bleeding lungs as he lay collapsed on burning sands. He looked up into the sky, watching purple misshapen blots hover over the sand-filled sky through blurring vision.

His body was one giant wound, filled to the brim with stabs and cuts and burns and every other horrible infliction imaginable to the human mind.

Spent bullet shells surrounded him, still hot from leaving their muzzles. The slight sound of sizzling crept through the man's ears as blood soaked itself into the casings nearby. Empty guns lay somewhere in the distance as he then had to rely on his own bare hands. The metallic exterior around his gauntlets had worn away against the onslaught of aliens that had one surrounded him from every corner, his knuckles and elbows frayed down to the bones, stripped of flesh as he continued to fight like a cornered animal, wild and unrelenting.

The Spartan could barely breathe, couldn't lift a finger, his vision was already fading fast much as his strength did already. Pain wouldn't even begin to describe what he felt in that moment, not just in body, but in soul and mind.

It all started with war, everything did, regardless of the motivation. But what replaced the usual vices were now foreign creatures from beyond the stars that waged war against humanity for simply existing.

" _Your destruction is the will of the gods… and we are their instrument."_ Those words were the first that humanity had heard from them. Noble Six remembered when they played the recording when he was only a kid, showing he and the rest of Beta Company what they would eventually fight against. It demoralized many and, in turn, weeded out the cowardly.

So it was at that point where endless training culminated into a single goal: to stand up against those that sought unrelenting destruction against humanity and all the colonies they lived upon.

It just so happened that Reach was one of their main targets. It started off small; infighting between humanity as rebels were still a thorn in the UNSC's side during that time. That was what Noble Six, Spartan-B312 at the time, was assigned to take care of before then.

Insurrectionists disappeared overnight without a single trace of conflict, and the third-generation Spartan was held on a tight leash during that time until he was assigned to Noble Team.

The dying Spartan would admit that he wasn't much of a team player, but something of an unbreakable bond was forged between them, however short it was. He was meant to be a replacement for a martyr and yet here he was in the same position he started in.

Alone, once again surrounded by enemies.

But he would do it all over again, he had no regrets for what he gave that resulted in his death. His corpse, guts, and blood strewn upon the land of an extraterrestrial world among many others as if a sacrifice to a hungry god.

His brothers and sisters-in-arms were merely meant to slow down the coming tide that would eventually crush them all… but that was life, wasn't it? Maybe if the Covenant didn't exist, so many more lives would have been spared. So many men, women, and children wouldn't have died.

Before long, the Spartan closed his eyes, never to open again as he breathed his last.

Despite that, the spirit of mankind itself had recognized him for his deeds. Despite never even seeing Earth, nor the people of that little blue planet ever hearing of his name or legend, the world recognized his strength and willpower, and most importantly, his wish.

Another hero was marked for endless battle in a concept of recordings known as the Throne of Heroes.

**Fill.**

Noble Six found himself in an endless sea, one with it: shapeless, colorless, merely a blip in a ocean of nothing until something invaded that space.

**Fill**

It spoke with feeling instead of words, sharing that same feeling of envelopment alongside him in the eternal void. It asked him questions, and he answered in return. Six wasn't exactly a religious man, but he knew this thing was otherworldly, perhaps even divine.

**Fill**

It spoke of his achievements throughout life, the sacrifices and commitments that he had taken up in order to preserve the balance of life. He felt nothing of it, it was merely a duty, nothing to take pride in.

**Fill**

It told him of his regrets that came out of those sacrifices, the would-have-beens that occur in every man's life. But they were all inevitabilities that were out of his control, and even then he would do them all again for the safety of humanity.

**Fill**

From his answer, it asked if he would do it even now.

**Upon each fill shalt it be destroyed.**

A switch flipped inside the machinations of his soul and his mind opened outwards for the spirit to bear upon him. Whispers of power and secrets and magic. Secret societies beget in the olden ways that thrived up until this point.

**Heed my Words. My Will creates your body, and your sword creates my Destiny.**

A container was placed before him, the closest it could to match his own specialty. Among him lay six others.

**If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, answer me.**

Sword, spear, bow, steed, rod, madness.

**I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.**

And what lay before him was a dagger. Simple steel, nothing out of the ordinary and flawless. The spirit that previously enveloped him granted him flesh, blood, bone, all of which a vessel to house that great spirit it beheld.

**That I shall defeat all the evil in the world.**

A battle taking place in Japan, the dusk of the 20th century in the city of Fuyuki. There would he fight once more, against several other spirits bearing similar powers. And he would be bound to a Master in order to attain this wish.

**Seven Heavens, clad in the three great words of power.**

Six looked down at the dagger, taking it in his hands as his body began to glow. There, the information he had seen began to pour into him, taking it as his own as the world began to glow in a brilliant white luminescence.

**Come forth from the circle of binding.**

From then on, he would answer to his Master to achieve the Holy Grail. A Servant cloaked in the presence concealing crafts that had been gifted to him. Henceforth, he shall cast aside his True Name and answer to a title befitting him for the Holy Grail War of Fuyuki:

**Guardian of the Scales!**

_Assassin._

The light died down and Six, the core of his soul encased in the vessel of a Servant, rose to his feet. His body was encased in a black lightweight, liquid nanocrystal-layered mesh suit and a slim helmet that obscured his face.

The Spartan turned to see an asian man with short brown hair and a muscled build hidden underneath priestly garbs. In his right hand was a set of command seals.

"You," he tilted his head, testing his voice as though it had not been used for an eternity, "Are you my master?"

**-oOo-**

His name was Kirei Kotomine, a priest whose father would be serving as the Overseer of the 4th Holy Grail War of Fuyuki. Taken in as the apprentice of Tokiomi Tohsaka after the discovery of his Command Seals, learning the basics and workarounds of magecraft.

That was all the information that Assassin had been provided, nothing really mattered to him before that. His master was a fighter, and a tactful one at that.

A Master would rarely ever have the chance to exceed the abilities of a Servant, but comparable to any other normal man and Kirei was on a league of his own. Assassin recognized a killer when he saw one, and his Master was no exception.

The Spartan could feel the prana from Kirei flowing into him, and even though he hadn't even considered the possibility of magecraft even existing up until his summoning, he considered the link perfectly stable and of adequate quantity.

"Assassin," the baritone voice of his Master seemed to boom throughout the basement of the Tohsaka manor as the three men stood in silence, "I would prefer if you'd leave us for now, I must speak with my mentor."

Six merely nodded and dispersed into spirit form, leaving the priest and the magus to themselves.

Tokiomi turned to his apprentice with an interested glint in his eye, "My, it appears you've summoned quite an interesting Servant, Kirei."

"It would appear so," the priest only said as the clicker-clacker of what could only be described as a magus' fax machine began to type up another paper for the Tohsaka patriarch, "Any more news from that fiendish machine of yours?"

Tokiomi merely chuckled to himself and deftly sliced the paper at the ends, eyes running through the runic texts as he began to translate it, "Merely more information on Masters partaking in the war."

Kirei nodded at the information, having been unsatisfied by the questions that the very existence that was Kiritsugu Emiya had formed for him, "Anything in particular?"

He shook his head, "It's merely a compiled summary of what we'll be dealing with in the coming war. Damned fools, they send me all the information I require before they send me the cliff notes?"

Tokiomi turned back to Kirei after muttering his curses, "What about you, Kirei? Tell me about your Servant."

"What would you like to know?"

"What do you have to tell me?" Tokiomi questioned back, "You know how the plan will be. Regardless of what happens, Assassin will die in the coming war to further along our goal."

Kirei hummed to himself, leaning on the back wall with his arms crossed before looking back up, "He said he was a Spartan."

"A Spartan? Are you sure that was what he said?"

"He insisted that I would refer to him as such if Assassin did not suffice," Kirei answered.

That was news to the magus, not outright concerning news, but still news nonetheless. This wasn't Hassan-i-Sabbah, which created a whole new set of considerations to factor in. And there weren't many notable Laconians during the battle of Thermopylae, narrowing the 300 down to specifically King Leonidas.

However… why not name themselves as such if that were the case? Aside from that was the class he had been summoned into. Tokiomi would've expected the Lancer class to have been a more suitable contender for him, or perhaps even the theoretical Shielder class that existed within the scripts of the Holy Grail War's first conception.

Spartan or not, Assassin or not, it mattered little. So long as everything went according to plan. And with the catalyst at hand, victory was assured.

"There's no cause for concern, Kirei," Tokiomi placed the parchment back on the table, "As long as Assassin can fulfill his end of the plan, I can assure you the failure to summon Hassan will mean little."

Whether or not that was meant to ease any of Kirei's discomforts, the stoic priest didn't show it. He turned back to his mentor, "And what if my Servant possessed a power that could go beyond your plans?"

Tokiomi looked back at Kirei with that same curious glint in his eye, the telling of a magi on the verge of discovering something unknown, "Oh? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Kirei shook his head, "No, merely weighing whether or not this information would be relevant to the plans, but it can achieve both methods of eliminating any suspicions of us keeping an alliance and continue to have a Servant to keep watch of any… opposing parties."

"In that case, my apprentice, do tell."

And so he did.

**-oOo-**

Shortly after, Kirei emerged to see Tokiomi's daughter, Rin if he remembered correctly, hefting what appeared to be a heavy set of luggage. Deciding to speak with her, their conversation was brief, though the words of the priest would change the way Rin would later see him. Short and to the point, their exchange would mark a turning point.

Nevertheless, the young mage had more important things to worry about.

"Hrrrr…!" Rin grunted, trying to pull the luggage out of the house and into their car. The little girl pushed the words of that dumb priest out of her head and focused on the priorities at hand, _'Stupid adolescent muscles can't even lift this damn suitcase!'_

Minutes passed and after the struggle she had put into to reach the car…

She finally made it out of the house.

"Gah!" Rin growled and slumped over onto the porch. Despite her adolescent age, she knew full well that she was rightfully pissed off, but more-so worried for her father than he was for her. They'd be safe with relatives and yet he had to stay here with some total stranger.

"Hey, you need help with that?" another deep voice, but this one sounded strangely foreign. The little girl turned around to see a giant towering over her.

The giant dressed up like Kirei sans the cross around his neck, but the clothes he wore seemed a bit too… tight on him. Maybe this was an associate of his that her father had omitted to tell her for reasons that she would've trusted him with anyway.

Rin's face soured into a scowl at the revelation of another damn priest in her presence before turning away, "I can do this on my own, I don't need your help."

Seconds passed before she heard the door behind her finally close, it was obvious that even as a child, her prestige as a Magus was something to be highly respecte-

"Woah!" Rin yelped, landing on her rear as she felt her luggage be pulled out from behind her, the loss of her makeshift stand causing gravity to grab hold of her once more and claim yet another victim.

Finding herself seated on the steps still, she shook her head to see that same giant of a man with her own luggage slung over his shoulder. Of course, she gave chase to the thief that had taken what was rightfully hers, "Hey, let go of that right now!"

"You're not strong enough," without missing a beat, the giant turned back to her as he continued his way forward and out of the manor. Rin gave chase to the giant lumbering towards the car to find him placing her suitcase into the trunk.

Rin stopped running as she caught up to the man, steps faltering to simple walking as she watched this mysterious man approach her mother. She turned to look at the car to see her luggage neatly placed among the rest going with them.

The man glanced out the corner of his eye just to see Rin look away from him with a pouty look on her face, he paid her no mind and turned back towards the house.

"Oh, hello there," a soft voice spoke to his left. A dark-haired young woman appeared from his peripheral vision, "Have we met before?"

He turned to face her, getting better look before shaking his head. The man strode closer to her, closing the trunk next to her as they began to converse, "I'm afraid not, miss. I'm merely helping out your husband and Kirei for the rest of the Grail War."

She tilted her head slightly, "Oh? Tokiomi didn't tell me about you."

"I'm a… recent addition," twelve hours recent, to be exact.

She seemed to catch on to the nature of his appearance, nodding as she now spoke in a hushed tone, "Ah, so you're Assassin?"

Assassin nodded, "And you must be Tokiomi's wife, Aoi Tohsaka, if I remember correctly," he held out his hand, to which she took.

"That would be correct. I... " her voice faltered, "I hope you keep my husband safe."

Assassin frowned and considered this for a moment, looking down and pondering the thought before slowly nodding to her, "I will do my best to keep my Master and your husband out of harm's way, ma'am."

The wife of Tokiomi bowed her head with a smile, thanking him and wishing him good luck during the Holy Grail War as she and Rin finally got into the car and drove off.

The third-gen Spartan slowly raised an arm and waved, half hoping that the woman would see him in the rearview mirror, despite his face ever unchanging however. As soon as they disappeared from sight, he did as well, taking to his spirit form and following after his Master. It didn't take him long to find the man with Tokiomi once more, this time the two looking over the fossilized skin of what appeared to be a snake.

They spoke of it as a catalyst to summon a Servant that was sure to bring them victory alongside the peculiarity that was himself, the two planning their use for this future Servant and the presently summoned Assassin.

Assassin merely listened for only a brief moment before leaving, letting the two have their conversation in private and instead continued to keep watch over the manor. It was not his place to know their plan without their consent. Although, Tokiomi seemed… frustrated.

In the meantime, however, the Servant continued his watch, keeping his wish for the Holy Grail at the back of his mind until the time being. Until then, he had a job to do, one that he could not afford to fail.

**-oOo-**

Well this was quite a… roundabout development. Tokiomi sat back in his chair as he pondered the circumstances of his Servant's summoning.

Perhaps there was an error in the catalyst. It was said to summon the most powerful hero in history, the ties coming from what should've been the shed skin of a snake, but upon closer inspection had told the magus otherwise.

He had meant to summon Gilgamesh, but he had failed… yet at the same time this was a development that the magus couldn't exactly be disappointed by.

Archer stood beside him as the battle against Assassin had come to a grisly conclusion, his body strewn about the garden as he finally faded away. The battlefield, however small it may have been, was littered to the brim with craters. As though Assassin had picked a fight with the sky itself and had died to the lightning it responded with.

Knowing the Heroic Spirit that was Archer, this wasn't too far off.

Anyone else watching this development would've come to the conclusion that Assassin was eliminated from the war. It would've been natural to assume so as the familiars that watched the manor witnessed the Servant of shadows fade away into nothingness.

"The deed is done, Master," Archer said, lowering the bow in his hands and letting it disperse in a haze of prana.

"Excellent work, Archer," the magus nodded dully, looking at the glass of wine in his hand, "One of the most important steps has finally been fulfilled."

Archer knew full well that his Master had not intended on summoning him, their interactions together had told him all he needed to know. But that didn't stop him from taking arms for his new Master, who laid out the plans carefully before him.

"Master," he began, the gargantuan man staring down at his much frailer and much shorter contractor, "I understand why yourself and this allied Master are working together, but was this part of the plan truly necessary?"

This snapped Tokiomi out of his thoughts as he stared back up at Archer, his size reminding him of the summoning, seeing that the Servant was far taller than anything he expected to call forth.

Luckily, the magus had the funds to fix the basement ceiling, and he could easily hypnotize any workers to forget the witnessing of his workshop.

Nevertheless, Tokiomi Tohsaka closed his eyes, "It was necessary to show our foes that the Servant of the Tohsaka family is not something to be taken lightly, Assassin merely obeyed the whims of his Master, my apprentice, to carry out my assassination."

"So it would've appeared disingenuous if Assassin had been ordered to fake an assassination and allow me to simply let him go," Archer caught on, crossing his arms and closing his eyes in contemplation, "I do admit the commitment is admirable, my lord, but I must ask once more if his death was absolutely necessary?"

Tokiomi rose from his seat, "Do not be fooled by the presence concealing skills of the Assassin class, Archer. Your ally still lives, if only for a temporary time until the end of the Grail War."

"Temporary ally?" the low and gravelly voice of the Bow Servant merely shook his head in amusement, "My Master, are you suggesting that you would have me work with that man?"

Assassin was an oddity even by the standards of every other Servant summoned in past Grail Wars, if the records are anything to go by. From what Kirei was able to tell him, the Servant was well-suited for close combat just as much as they are for shadowy silent murders.

"Kirei would keep him in line with Command Seals if absolutely necessary," Tokiomi answered, "Would this bother you?"

Archer merely looked out the window at the crater where Assassin's corpse had once lied in, "I have worked with many men over the years of my life, I've sailed with cutthroats and killers that served alongside me as loyally as any other friend would. Working alongside Assassin will be of no trouble to me, but I will admit it would pain me to fight against him should it ever happen."

"I see…" Tokiomi whispered to himself before looking back up to his Servant, "And what will you do now?"

The giant turned his head, eyes glazing over as though looking off into the distance, "I sense a battle taking place in the distance. Perhaps there's a Servant brazen enough to challenge the might of their rivals."

He looked back at his Master, a sly smile strangely befitting the Servant's face, "I will return soon, Master. Use a Command seal if there's any issue."

With that, the muscled Archer disappeared, leaving Tokiomi all by his lonesome. The magus sighed to himself as he pushed his glass away, looking out into the courtyard in thought.

He failed to summon the King of Heroes, and better yet summoned a Heroic Spirit with the highest potential of independence even from their own contract. Still, this complication could still work in his favor despite the obvious identity of his own Servant.

Wishing for a specific Servant seemed so much more simple on paper, but apparently the magus in red got more than he bargained for. Tokiomi wanted to be disappointed by the results he had gotten, but for some strange reason he couldn't help but not.

How could he? No other Servant can stand up against the most renowned hero in all of myth.

**-oOo-**

Kirei Kotomine returned to the Church, gaining admission after the defeat of his Servant. Such were the rules of the Holy Grail War, the grounds of neutral territory were resolute as the men and women that held domain over its security.

The younger man sat down on a nearby pew as the older man, his father Risei Kotomine, left. Silently muttering an _Our Father_ , he contemplated the circumstances of the first official battle of the Holy Grail War. The explosive sounds of mana infused arrows rending the flesh and bone from the Servant's body as he died in a hail of primitive ammunition still fresh on his mind.

There it was, that strange urge in the back of his head again. Kirei grimaced at the satisfaction that he felt from it. Forcing down the feeling, he listed off the next part of the plans in his head...

And how he'll have to continue carrying out Tokiomi's orders in secrecy.

"Assassin, you can come out now," said the Executor. In a haze of grey, the taller man reappeared before him, not a single scratch on his body and still in the same condition as the day he was summoned.

"What? Not even a _'Sorry?'_ ," Assassin's composure was relaxed, perhaps a bit irritated from the circumstances that had afflicted him prior, "I understand the nature of the plan now, sir, but was the use of my Noble Phantasm really that necessary for this?"

The man watched as Assassin tossed aside the fake skull mask of the traditional Hassan-i-Sabbah. The hard ceramic clattering across the room as the Servant looked down at his Master.

"It was imperative that you carry out the order without hesitation or deviation. Tokiomi was aware of the situation and acted accordingly to any threats carried out, ruse or not," Kirei explained, rising from his seat and meeting the man eye to eye, "I apologize for the act, but this will allow us more secrecy and erase any notions of the alliance myself, Tokiomi, and my father share."

Seconds passed and Assassin didn't move from his spot, merely staring at Kirei as though contemplating the answer given to him. Before Kirei would voice any more concern, however, he watched as the Servant reached his hands up and grasped at the edges of his helmet.

Kirei watched as his Servant was unmasked before him, the first thing he noticed was the eyes, cold and distant orbs hidden behind a mask of dark irises. His face was neutral yet hardened like any other soldier, if his claims of being a Spartan are to be believed. Nevertheless, his face matched the rest of his build: the apex of physicality and fortitude.

He spoke, this time his voice much more clear without that helmet blaring that slightly static tone, his tone was concise and without inflection, speaking his next words as the absolute truth, "The next time you sic another demigod on me will be your last, _Master_."

With that being said, the air between them seemed to suddenly clear. Placing the helmet back over his head, Assassin slowly nodded and turned back, "I sense something going on in the distance."

"Something?"

Assassin turned back to Kirei as though nothing between them had happened. Perhaps the Servant didn't make a habit of taking things personally.

"A sort of beckoning presence, it's definitely a Servant," perhaps a challenge then? "Your orders?"

"Gather as much information as you can on this Servant," Kirei's eyes narrowed as he lowered his head in thought, "As well as any other Servants that so happen to accept their 'invitation'. Fight only if absolutely necessary."

"What about Archer?" Assassin queried, "It's likely he'll want to fight as well."

"Merely observe," the Executor reaffirmed his orders, "Archer is under Tokiomi's jurisdiction, any issues and he'll use a Command Seal."

Kirei was met with silence once more before Assassin disappeared. The Executor and Master of the Holy Grail War sat down once more onto the pew before the altar. His mind void of a prayer as the thoughts of battle ran through his head.

The Fourth Holy Grail War has finally begun.


	2. Clash of Heroes

Steel met steel as a battle raged on, a multitude of onlookers watched as a young blonde woman in blue let out a sharp cry as a lance arced across her vision, sending her skidding back and nearly taking off her head in the process. The concealed blade of her weapon still hummed from the blow as she raised it back up, throwing herself back into the fight and retaliating with a swing of her own.

Her opponent was a young man, handsome too if any other woman or even man were to describe him. A small nagging feeling pulled at the edges of her mind to cease fighting, forcing her gaze to wander at his figure for longer than she would prefer, however her resistance to that pull was even greater.

It was a curse of attraction, pure and simple, the damn spot underneath his right eye that could charm any lesser woman with but a simple gaze. It was a nuisance for the both of them and an incentive to strike down her opponent to be rid of the feeling.

"Impressive display, Saber!" Lancer barked a laugh as the two spun around the battlefield now reduced to rubble, the cargo boxes torn apart like wet cardboard, "But how long do you plan on hiding that precious sword of yours?"

A flourish of his spears was enough to cause her to step back, instincts reading the fight as the speartip had missed her throat by mere centimeters as she blocked a wild swing from the lesser spear. In return, she spoke back, "Perhaps once you've fallen shall you gaze upon its steel, Lancer!"

Another strike parried, the Servant of the Spear couldn't be any happier.

As the two fought, the others were witnessing the fight, planning their next moves. The two most obvious was the foreign woman and the owner of the voice that reverberated throughout their arena, the first was an Einzbern homunculus according to the words of Tokiomi, and the second was Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald according to Kotomine, a professor from some place called the Clock Tower.

A dark shadowy figure sat and perched itself on the very top of a nearby crane overlooking the Mion river, listening to the sounds of battle and watching every single move made. From there, Assassin could gleam that this Kayneth was the Master of Lancer and the homunculus was the Master of Saber-

No, the Servant of the shadow pressed a button on the side of his helmet, his vision zooming in even further. Strange… not a single speck of Command Seals on her hand. This couldn't be a Master.

He relayed the information back to Kirei through the link they shared, who in turn processed the information to Tokiomi. The Spartan was only met with silence as he continued to watch the battle taking place from below, not a single sign from Archer either to his surprise.

Much to his curiosity, Assassin flicked the helmet's sensors through several more settings, his vision focused on the obscured blade Saber was holding before settling back into the normal color spectrum.

' _Her sword is even obscured from every form of light on the electromagnetic spectrum… interesting,'_ Assassin wasn't well-versed in the practice of magecraft, in fact he wouldn't have known it even existed if not for the Grail, but he could tell that the spell provided to hide this swordwoman's weapon was a tough one.

That meant one thing: the identity of the sword gave away the identity of Saber. The only thing he could gleam from her was that fighting style, slashes and cuts swung in the same sense as a knight from Europe would, likely German or British.

Lancer's spears were clothed for the same reason Saber's sword was, though with what appeared to be magecraft-reinforced wrappings.

The sounds of battle came to a halt, both Servants right back where they started. Lancer lowered his spears and Saber lowered her blade in response.

"It's a shame that we cannot introduce each other proper, Saber," the man's smirk was melancholic, "But your skill in combat is second to none, woman or not. I am honored to have been summoned for this War if not for simply meeting you alone."

"Oh?" said the Saber in blue, the edges of her lips tilting into a coy grin, "Such praise coming from a master of the spear. The honor is all mine, Lancer."

A vaguely annoying voice suddenly interrupted their brief exchange, "That's enough toying with your prey, Lancer. Saber is a fierce opponent, I shall give her that. Use your Noble Phantasm and finish her quickly."

Lancer's grin grew even wider, the wraps on the longer spear in his right hand disappearing as he dropped the one on his left. In his hands was a standard spear, colored red like a rose, "Tell me, Saber. You've been using wind magic to conceal that sword of yours, haven't you?"

As Assassin leaned in further to get a better view of the fight, he took notice of the two somewhat conspicuous gunmen hiding in the shadows.

**-oOo-**

Kiritsugu's rifle had trained itself on the shadowy spirit perched on the crane above them. The lense of his rifle flaring as the outline of white showed him their onlooker.

This had to be Assassin, the real one. Kiritsugu had suspicions that the fight between Archer and Assassin was a ruse meant to mislead the intentions everyone assumed between Kotomine and Tokiomi, but there was no way to know for sure. And even surprising him was the fact that they had attempted to mislead everyone into thinking this was an entirely different Heroic Spirit altogether.

Their body was still shrouded in shadowy black apparel, but that's where the differences between the Assassin they saw then and the one he was seeing now ended. No withered limbs or skull mask, nor a tattered cloak to signify the Middle Eastern origins of Hassan.

Kiritsugu hummed to himself in thought. This was a conundrum that even he didn't see coming, but what surprised him more-so was the lack of activity that the Assassin displayed. The outline of a dagger was sheathed at the waist, but there had been no moves to attack.

There was more to this than meets the eye, the Magus Killer thought to himself.

"Kiritsugu," a voice buzzed in his ear, "I'm within sights of Assassin, I'll distract him while you take out Lancer's Master."

"Don't bother, Maiya," he belayed her order, still peering through the sights, "I doubt bullets would affect a Servant much, we're unprepared to fight them at this time."

He neglected to mention that Assassin was more than likely acting as a scout, under the assumption that the dagger brought with them was merely a weapon of self-defense.

Kiritsugu looked down at his hand, the three seals emblazoned upon it. With a single command, he could order Saber to strike down the Servant and end a Servant properly.

A hidden attacker was always an issue and ending them would get rid of one complicated situation altogether, especially with a rare opportunity of Assassin revealing himself so easily. But even then…

Everyone of importance had watched as he was completely decimated by the Archer class, arrows piercing flesh and shattering bones on contact alone. Assassin shouldn't even exist, and yet here they were like an act of God. It had to be the act of a Noble Phantasm.

Besides, one of the three Knight classes were out right before his own Servant. Saber only had to distract Lancer before his Master was dead. Killing two birds with one stone, as it were.

"Prepare yourself, Saber," a man's voice cautioned, Lancer's, "I'll have your life this time for sure."

Kiritsugu turned back to the fight, noticing the disparaging sight before him.

"Not if I take yours first, Knight of Fianna," the King of Knights responded, her armor replaced and sword in hand, even as her wrist continued to bleed profusely. Their battle sure to continue.

Until the sky exploded in a haze of lightning.

**-oOo-**

Their fight had been a fierce one, much to the surprise of the Spartan. To anyone else, they could've only seen a blur of blue and green followed by several dozens of sparks bouncing throughout the place as the battlefield further crumbled around them. Their skirmish was a strategic marvel as it had grinded to a halt, resulting in Saber's arm being crippled and Lancer coming out no worse for wear.

"Prepare yourself, Saber. "I'll have your life this time for sure."

"Not if I take yours first, Knight of Fianna!"

Neither would get the chance to take the next strike. The sound of lightning split the air in two as both Servants leapt back out of pure instinct, the sound of braying bulls and the smell of ozone filled the air followed by the rumbling of churning bronze and wooden wheels before finally coming to a stop.

Kiritsugu shielded his face for the moment as flecks of debris and stone had pelted him more than a few times. He lowered his arms as the noise finally died down, revealing a rather concerning new sight.

This was… concerning.

"Lower your weapons, Servants of the Holy Grail War! For you are in the presence of a king!" a voice boomed out towards the sky like thunder as the speaker rose to his full height, arms out in welcome as he grinned, "I am the Rider of this War, but you may call me the King of Conquerors, Iskandar the Great!"

Saber lowered her blade, as did Lancer and Kiritsugu did with their own weapons. Meanwhile, Assassin himself had leaned in closer at what exactly just happened, balancing himself over the edge of the crane as he tried to comprehend the events currently unfolding.

' _What,'_ each of them thought in simultaneous action.

"R-Rider! What the hell are you thinking?! You can't just give away your n-name away like that you moro- gah! " his dwarf for a master exclaimed before earning a quick flick to the face, launching him back into the chariot. Without missing a beat, Rider straightened himself back up, smoothing out his previously billowing crimson cape, predatory yet intelligent eyes gazing at the two before him before he opened his mouth once more.

"As I was saying. I would wish to ask each of you one single question," arms raised on up to the stars as his cape billowed out once more as the grin on his face grew ever wider, "In exchange for serving under my rule, would you care to surrender the Holy Grail to I, Iskandar?! Any and all who shall agree shall be welcomed under my care as allies!"

He was boisterous, loud, a bit of an ape, but no less a potential threat. The King of Conquerors, Iskandar the Great, better known as Alexander. Son of Philip II and Olympias and raised under the belief of being a demigod. Jorge had told the Spartan stories of Greek battles and heroes, strange to think that an older super-soldier even more hellbent on the Covenant's extermination than he was would be an avid scholar on Greek history.

Maybe it was part of training, he'd never figure it out.

Before either Servant could even have the chance to decline. The voice of Lancer's Master had boomed throughout the harbor, the source of his voice unable to be pinpointed due to the effects of Magecraft, "So it was you that decided to steal my catalyst… Waver Velvet."

"I-it can't be!" Waver's pupils shrank to pinpricks as he jerked his head around. Sweat began to form as he knew exactly who this was.

"This is just perfect," everyone could practically hear the smug grin on the Master of Lancer's face as he stepped out of the shadows to get a better look at his old student, "Perhaps I can demonstrate to you what it means for two mages to fight to the death. You've disappointed me time and time again, unworthy of being Rider's Master, perhaps I can help you make up your work by letting you be my guinea pig…"

The threat couldn't have been more clear if it had been carved into Waver's forehead, which precisely explained why the young man was practically curled up into the fetal position as the red-haired Rider looked down at him.

"If the King of Conquerors truly shares my blood, then there would be no sense in even considering yourself just as worthy, Master of Lancer," a voice from beyond spoke, a shower of blue emerged, and from it was a body. The very cargo box creaked under his massive weight and gargantuan size, towering over the newly named Rider by nearly half a meter, "As you can see, this young man, as much of a waif as he appears to be, stands beside his Servant in spite of his fear."

"I couldn't have put it any better!" yelled Rider, much to the anguish of a vertically challenged Master sitting right beside him, "Only those worthy of riding alongside me in the field of battle are worth their mettle to call themselves my Master."

Everyone's eyes were now on the dark-skinned giant standing before them, hair flowing down like the mane of a lion and bearing just as much muscle as one, if not more-so. The aura that radiated from his very presence could only truly be called that of a hero, immortalized like a marble statue that would forever stand the test of time.

Clutched in his left hand was a wooden bow clothed in soft wrappings.

So this was Archer.

The red-haired giant turned to his larger counterpart with a smile on his face, "Those were well said words, Archer. Though we may be enemies for the time being, I'd like to ask for your name so that we would do battle in glory proper."

Archer merely looked to the rest of the Servants stand before him, both Saber and Lancer unconsciously taking a step away from him out of instinct. As heroic as he was, he still gave off murderous intent, "I'm afraid I must decline, Iskandar. However, my first words to you may leave a hint."

Rider's face became quizzical, thinking back to what the man had said not even a full minute ago, "Sharing blood… so a fellow demigod stands before me? And that bow…"

The gargantuan man's smile slowly began to shift into a wider grin, "Ah… now I see who stands before me. With power like yours, there's no doubt about it! This War just became so much more grand!"

Rider laughed, a thunderous laughter that roared and matched the same electrifying intensity of his own chariot. The Servants around him looked on in confusion.

"If that's the case, your secret is safe with me, _Archer,_ " Rider clasped a fist against his chest, "I would be more than happy to meet you on the battlefield, but as of now…"

There it was. The moment those words left his mouth, the air seemed to brim with malice as a dark being seemed to materialize out from across the harbor. The sickening growl of a maddened black knight entering the fray rattled the very air around it before coming to a halt.

"We have an onlooker in our midst," Rider spoke grimly, unsheathing his sword and pushing his young master away, "Well then, it was only a matter of time before Berserker showed up."

"What's the matter, Rider?" Lancer smirked, "Are you going to try to recruit this one too?"

Rider stroked the crimson hair under his chin, "Perhaps not, this one is far too heated from what I'm seeing. Speaking of which, are you both willing to-"

"No," Saber and Lancer simultaneously answered.

"Haha! It was worth a shot," Iskandar barked a laugh to himself as he stood back and watched the upcoming battle from afar.

Darkened hazy air blew and swirled around the beast as it looked up at the Archer from up on above. Before anyone, be they Master or Servant, had the chance to react, both Berserker and Archer vanishing from their respective places.

What followed suit was the sound of an explosion in the distance. Rubble scattered the area where it shouldn't have a moment ago.

Archer grunted as a fist had been driven into his abdomen, thrown through several shipping containers before meeting the concrete wall on the other side backfirst. The heavy footsteps of the black knight quickly reached his ears. Dematerializing his bow, Archer pushed himself back to his feet and met the warrior head on with a roar of his own.

Everyone watched as the pair reappeared before them, Archer's arms wrapped around the knight's waist in a mix between a tackle and an attempt to crush their spine. Berserker planted their foot into the ground, concrete breaking apart and leaving a trail of debris as he did so before slamming both fists into the larger man's back, weakening his grip before following back up with a knee slamming straight into Archer's jaw.

The demigod stumbled back, clutching his face with a single hand as he finally came to a stop. Lowering it back down, all had seen the steady stream of crimson pouring from his lips and nose.

Wiping it away with a single hand, Archer grinned.

"Take up arms, Servant of madness," the Servant of the bow straightened back up, "Who knows? You may even have a chance at besting me!"

Despite the effects of Madness Enhancement, the black knight reached forth and pulled a lamppost out of the ground, snapping off the lighted end and leaving a sharpened point where it once stood. The skin of the makeshift spear began to darken, glowing red crackles seemed to break forth as Berserker began his charge.

Archer made no move to defend as the knight drove the spear into his chest, aimed straight for the heart. The force strong enough to make Archer take a step back. For the briefest moment, many had thought that Berserker had finally finished him off, with Archer being the truly mad one for making no effort to defend.

For that moment, they all thought that Archer's arrogance had finally got him killed.

So it was a surprise for everyone to see Archer take hold of the spear, looking back at Berserker and matching that same murderous glint in his eyes, "Only the best may pierce my body, Berserker. You're better off using your FISTS!"

Upon uttering the final word, the Servant wrenched the spear free from Berserker's grip before slamming it against the knight's face, throwing him into the opposing container and crumpling it like aluminum foil.

Archer dropped the spear before charging back at his foe, the darkened skin and red cracks now disappeared and returning to the state of a broken yet normal lamppost.

"Hmm, that's quite an interesting ability," Rider hummed to himself. The Noble Phantasm of Berserker allowed any held object to become a makeshift Noble Phantasm in and of itself. If that were the case, then that spear should've been able to pierce Archer's hide. Unless…

Berserker and Archer continued their onslaught, a flurry of fists, feet, and various other limbs as each Servant fought for supremacy over the other. Despite being a Berserker, Archer was impressed by his opponent's calm disposition in battle, fighting with each movement as fluid and concise as anyone with a clear mind.

Suddenly shifting weight, Berserker launched his foot back down with the speed of a missile, intent on crushing the giant's foot to gain an advantage. Archer grinned and shifted back to avoid the blow, throwing up a cloud of dust that hid the two in the haze.

There it was, an opening! Right between the fists of Berserker was a clear aim for the man's neck. A single punch could end the fight then and there by severing it from the rest of his body.

Archer threw one last punch, putting all the weight in his body into the final blow and intent on finishing this trivial fight.

_*Whoosh!*_

Pain followed after.

The demigod's fist caught empty space as one side of his vision suddenly disappeared into black, the sound of a crunch as a fist had impaled his abdomen apparent. Archer looked down to see the knight's arm elbow-deep into his chest, the other clutching a set of blackened rock shards.

Ah, clever bastard. While it wasn't an A-rank Noble Phantasm, Berserker had infused his influence on a piece of debris after he attempted to smash his foot in, crushing it in his face before blinding a single eye with his thumb.

Berserker must've been blindingly fast if he managed to accomplish that in under a single second.

Archer stifled a laugh as he coughed up blood, falling back over as the life left his eye.

The dust finally settled and Berserker was revealed the victor. Throwing his head back, the mad warrior let out a beastial cry of victory before setting his sights on the nearest Servant before him, picking up the makeshift polearm before rushing in.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn't do much with a crippled hand.

Saber parried the blow and took a step back, ducking under another swing before retaliating with a haphazard strike of her own. The combined efforts of her own carelessness and Berserker's abilities leaving her open for a free strike.

A flash of red severed the magic from the lamppost and cut through it like a knife meeting butter. Between them, Lancer stood with his crimson spear pointing at the maddened knight, "That's enough from you, Berserker. Saber and I already have an arranged duel. If you want to get to her, you'll have to settle with me first."

Lancer's Master interrupted them, intent on having his Servant pit himself against Saber with Berserker joining him with the use of a Command Seal. Saber faced down two formidable foes with only her sword and a crippled hand.

Iskandar shook his head as he gripped the reins of his chariot, intent on taking matters into his own hands.

That is, until Berserker was sent flying back, the armor covering him warping and bending from the force of the punch. The mad knight let out a rattled scream as he crumpled to the ground.

"I-impossible!" Lancer leaped back, narrowly dodging another swing from his new foe. Stretching out his arms, he ran the blade of Gae Dearg across the flesh of his enemy, failing to pierce it much to his dismay.

Everyone listened as Iskandar burst out into a thunderous fit of laughter once more, letting go of the reins as they all witnessed the newly risen Archer punt Berserker with a single fist through a nearby container.

Archer himself let out a long breath, his skin still reddened from the effects of resurrection, bones popping back into place as flesh and ribs reset themselves. His missing eye suddenly reappearing in his head, blinking as he tested out his renewed depth perception, "Whew, that was exhilarating, Berserker. If I knew you were capable of such trickery, I wouldn't have gone so easy on you."

With his strength back, Archer had finally managed to subdue Berserker with that single punch alone. The divine bowman listened to the faint and injured cries of the mad beast before finally fading away, most likely to lick their wounds.

Lancer's eyes widened, seeing that he was thoroughly outnumbered. Archer's smile faded away as he looked up, "It's three against one, Master of Lancer. I suggest you withdraw, along with your Servant."

Archer looked back down, first to Lancer before turning to Saber, "This won't be a fight he'll win."

Silence pervaded the arena before that grating voice spoke once more, "Lancer, fall back for now. We shall settle this another day."

Lancer closed his eyes, shifting his attention towards the opposing demigod, "You have my deepest thanks, Archer."

With that, the Servant of the spear disappeared, leaving only three other Servants behind.

"Think nothing of it. Your fight with Saber was truly an awe-inspiring spectacle and I would wish to see more," Archer placed a hand on a hip before turning to Rider, who nodded in response "As for you, King of Conquerors, I apologize for never getting that battle, but appears our fight will have to conclude for now."

"Oh?" the red-haired giant raised an eyebrow, "We're evenly matched now, Archer. What's stopping us from fighting now?"

Archer merely shrugged as he turned away, "It appears that my resurrection has sparked a bit of cowardice from my Master. Afraid that such an action would give away my True Name, and having one Servant already know is too much trouble for him. Such a waste of a Command Seal..."

With that, the Servant of the bow disappeared in a haze, leaving behind Rider and Saber.

As they exchanged words, Kiritsugu turned away from the battle, muttering a slight curse to himself as Lancer's Master got away. The threat of Assassin was too high and had caused doubt in his actions. The Magus killer stood up and called to Maiya. Looking back up, he saw that the form of Assassin had disappeared.

He'll settle this another time.

* * *

" _What's the plan of action, Master?"_

" _Keep tailing them, Assassin,"_ the voice of Kirei spoke from the shared link he and Assassin had been connected with. Assassin watched from a nearby building as a car drove off through the streets of Fuyuki, _"Saber is obviously a force to be reckoned with, so every form of weakness must be searched and exploited."_

The Spartan shook his head as he leaped from building to building, landing with a soft thud as each one was made with perfect grace and precision. There wasn't much he could do in the way of scouting for that war should any of the Masters there make a move he didn't like.

It was that sense of control that had given him the title of Hyper Lethal Vector.

And yet here he was tracking a Mercedes-Benz through the streets of some obscure Japanese city and spying on an albino woman and her pet familiar with an oversized toothpick and a crippled arm. It _definitely_ had nothing to do with his Master's obsession with this Kiritsugu person.

Not the best mission to be put on, but it was certainly better than the first.

So it was somewhat of a surprise to see the woman's car breaking down midway. The car leaning to one side as one of the tires lay deflated and slashed.

Six looked down at the knife at his side.

_Oops_.

So Assassin sat down at the edge of a nearby building, heads-up display allowing him to get a better look at the two from this distance. Missions like these bored him, but it was better than nothing or getting an arrow lodged in a local eye socket. The Spartan unsheathed his knife, twirling the immaculate matte black blade between his fingers, paying close attention to the pair while simultaneously keeping his dexterity up to standards. Out of the corner of his eye were some local food shops, Koshuensaikan Taizan and Edomaeya being two that stuck out to him.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Assassin pulled himself back up to his feet, turning around to see a shadowy figure standing behind him, "You can stop with the hide and seek act, it's not going to help now."

To his surprise, this stalker strode, no- it was more of a staggering shuffle as they made their way into the light. Assassin couldn't help but flinch at the lifeless thing standing before him, its eyes empty and devoid of emotion as its arms hung loosely by their sides. This could've easily blended into a crowd or pass off as some sort of drunkard if anyone else were to see them in a dark alleyway, if the somewhat casual-punkish clothes they wore were anything to go by.

This wasn't a Heroic Spirit, at least he didn't think it was, and yet this thing managed to track him down even as he scaled across several buildings. It dawned on him that there was one other Servant unaccounted for.

"I see Caster decided to send a familiar," the lifeless man nodded, confirming Assassin's suspicions, "You're probably listening from that puppet of yours, aren't you?"

A slight pause before a nod.

Of course, there was no way for this thing, or even someone as skilled as a Caster class Servant, to find him with the ability to conceal his own presence as a Servant. So that meant…

"You're here for Saber, aren't you?"

The empty man stood motionless, a thin blade sliding out of their sleeve as they then gripped the sharp weapon in their hand, nodding silently once more.

Assassin looked down at the blade before looking back up at the familiar, "I don't know what you're after, but picking fights won't get you anywhere," he turned away, waving a hand dismissively, "Leave, go spy on Saber someplace else."

He was instead answered by rapidly approaching footsteps from behind. Without even a single turn of his head, Assassin threw his dagger over his shoulder, sticking the assailant between the eyes as it finally collapsed, blade in hand and blood pooling out.

The "battle" played out entirely as he expected, yet for some reason still couldn't help but feel disappointed.

The Spartan turned back to the corpse and retrieved his dagger, along with his attacker's knife just for keepsake. He turned back once more to see the homunculus and Saber finally get the car into working order.

Did the Riding skill also allowed some knowledge of fixing transportation? Assassin tilted his head, assuming so if the lack of any strangers in the vicinity was anything to go by. The spare tire they put in place could probably drive them back to whatever headquarters they reside themselves in.

Assassin _could_ give chase, but he's had enough for one night. Besides, Caster's newfound involvement will most surely be of intrigue for his Master's superior.

" _Assassin, what's going on?"_ the voice of Kirei spoke into his mind, obvious concern in his voice.

" _Master,"_ Assassin began, watching as the corpse's traits began to sizzle and fade away, revealing the pale and featureless innards of the thing that attacked him, leaving behind what appeared to be a mobile phone, _"Things have gotten…"_

The Servant picked up the phone, fiddling with the device and aiming at the corpse before disappearing in a haze, intent on returning to the two with news.

" _Complicated."_


	3. Espionage

_Kotomine dreamt of the end._

_The earth was a bitter and scorched land, sand and dirt sliced across his skin like razor wire as he trekked through the land. The sky was a yellow and pink haze as a mountain loomed on within the distance._

_Burning, scorched, tired land. War, battle, skirmish, fight, bloody conflict that lead to the death of an entire planet. He found himself looking up to see those strange crafts hovering miles above his head._

_Covenant. He didn't know why he knew that word, but that's what he recognized it as. Beams of light struck the ground and tore it asunder out in the distance. Even from here he could feel the heat. The ground was being turned to glass. Crackling, sizzling seas of opaque and fragile glass._

_For some reason, the priest knew this wasn't Earth. This couldn't be._

_His body moved, stepping off of a steel platform and past a pair of small buildings, both destroyed by the aftermath of war. His hands were armored, covered in thick plates of solid titanium as he took hold of a rifle, checking the sights and ammunition counter before raising it to eye level._

_M392 Designated Marksman Rifle. That's what it was called, a bullpup rifle manufactured by the Misriah Armory. Utilizes 15 round magazines containing M118 FMJ Armor Piercing rounds with a rate of 86 RPM._

_Why did he know this? How did he know this?_

_His body was encased in those same plates of armor. A Heads-Up Display ever more apparent as he marched onwards._

_A dropship flew by, Phantoms they were called, taking notice as it crawled to a halt and began to descend. The side bay doors opening up to reveal the enemy, disgusting meter-tall beasts with devices strapped to their backs along with tall bird-like creatures._

_A flash of blue whizzed by his head, turning to see another monster standing not too far away. Their jaw split into four mandibles and standing even taller than he was. It roared in fury as it broke into a sprint, firing the strange alien device in their hands all the while._

_His body aimed the rifle and let loose a volley of shots before the space between them was finally closed. The monster, that… "Elite", swung the bulky tool at him, aiming for his head. He responded in kind by sidestepping the attack, unsheathing the knife strapped to his shoulder, and digging the blade into its jugular. Violet blood spilled and spurted from the arteries in its neck as it limply fell to the ground, the light in its bestial eyes dimming._

_He had fought these invaders before so many times, and would kill more if need be. He fired again, picking off three, two Grunts and a Jackal, before moving on. His shields began to waver as hot rounds of plasma bounced off of his body. The man took cover behind some fallen debris, checking the ammo counter: 05 shots._

_Time seemed to crawl, everything moved as if underwater and sound became muffled as he exited from cover, took aim, firing into another team of Grunts and leaving only the bigger fish to remain._

_He charged after the next squad of Covenant forces, holding the empty rifle by it's barrel and picking up a much larger weapon with the other before slinging it over his shoulder. They barely recognized him as he landed within the center of their squad. By then, it was too late._

_Cold sharp steel sliced through a multitude of smaller targets before snapping the rifle over the head of a nearby Brute, only managing to anger and daze it before a bullet perforated it's skull. Now empty handed, he unholstered the sidearm that was his Magnum and kicked aside the Spike Rifle that the Brute didn't even have the chance to fire into the face of a nearby Grunt, cracking its skull upon impact._

_Aiming up, he unlatched the larger gun he picked up. A shoulder-mounted grey-green device. A full charge lasting two to three seconds before a beam of scorching red light tore through several foreign aircraft before the weapon sizzled out._

_He tossed aside the useless tool and carried on._

_The muscles in his body burned like battery acid in his veins, muscles constricting like fraying rope and unbreakable bones being pushed to their limits as the Spartan continued his onslaught through the battered wasteland of Reach. Shields would give out under fire, causing the onset of his gunmetal grey armor finally breaking down. Molten metal burned into his skin as the surface absorbed the plasma energy, a stray bolt struck him across the face, shattering a portion of his helmet._

_Before long, the ground was littered with corpses, countless like atoms in the sea. Lungs filled with fire, muscles strung with razor wire, and the stress of war taking its toll as he continued to push on even beyond his limits._

_Another wave of enemy fire brought the Spartan to his knees, the helmet worn beyond belief and lacking ammunition. The man pulled off his helmet, sucking in the dirty barren air for the first time since the Pillar of Autumn had escaped._

_Much to his fortune, there lied an assault rifle, fully loaded and ready for use. Picking it up, he strode forward to his first enemy, gunning down the Elite before shifting his weight, listening to the heavy steps of a sword-wielding alien before slamming his elbow its jaw, shattering its neck upon impact._

_Pain wracked his body as streams of plasma sizzled across his suit. The Spartan took aim once more, utilizing the Magnum he previously held onto with his newly acquired rifle, killing two at once before falling over to the ground. Pushing up with his leg, he shoved off the Elite that downed him before another showed up._

_Failing to notice the sharp burning sensation as another Covenant soldier plunged their sword into his abdomen, Noble 6 only responding with a fatal elbow-strike to the monster's face as it tried for a second time to kill him._

_Another made its way for him, and another, and another, and another._

_Before long, it was simply too much before he was finally overwhelmed. An entire army had been after him, the unsung hero of a fierce and determined war._

_But heroes alone can't win wars. He was proof of that already. A hero who forsook all and outlasted his friends, dying alone on the bitter earth of Reach._

_However… history would never write it like that._

_After all, Spartans never died._

_Right?_

* * *

Kirei woke up in a cold sweat on his bed, breathing heavily at the memory that had left his senses. The priest sat on the edge of the mattress, head in his hands as his mind was still processing the memory playing through his mind. He could still taste the bloody copper on his lips, the stench of rotten alien corpses strewn about the barren landscape.

That was hell. The Rapture incarnate from a merciless storm with no regard for human life.

The priest rose from his bed, rinsing his face as soon as he reached the bathroom and drying it off with a nearby towel. Kirei looked at himself in the mirror, trouble brewing upon his face.

There was something inherently wrong with what he had just witnessed. It wasn't the death of Assassin, this "Noble 6" he was known as. All the death and murder and carnage that surrounded the otherworldly soldier that he had summoned, it stirred things within him.

It was a feeling of… he didn't even know what to call it. Exuberance? Satisfaction?

Whatever it was, he forced that feeling to the back of his mind. It was that dark feeling he always tried to hide, but every now and then it would always return. They were his demons, his dark influence upon the thoughts in his mind, his malignance. It wasn't the nature of a holy man and such thoughts should be pushed aside.

So why did he still feel so hollow?

A minute and a half later and he was dressed in his robes once more. His fingers clutched the cross looped around his neck, grasping it tightly to the point his fingers almost split open from the pressure.

He recounted the night before, a surprising turn of events with Tokiomi as well as the brief conversation the two shared. His Servant was nowhere to be found, perhaps having left first thing in the morning and tracking down his targets.

Assassin was efficient, austere, and obedient. Neither held any particular feelings towards the other, their contract was certainly business. That raised the question: what would a man like Assassin wish from the Holy Grail?

Kirei pushed the question aside as new ones formed. What were those things, those… Covenant? They were disgusting creatures, speaking in strange tongues that he didn't know.

What was Assassin before he died?

His eyes closed tightly in frustration before sighing, rarely often did he ever feel this sense of frustration. Nevertheless, the Executor got dressed in the same black attire, the same priestly attire he always wore, intent on learning any recent events within the war.

And Kotomine was never late.

**-oOo-**

It was a surprise for Tokiomi to find Assassin standing in his office, but not an unwelcome one. The Spartan, at least he claimed he was, held a stack of thin white squares in the palm of his hand.

The Servant had previously filled him in on the current identities of the others during their skirmish the night before. Lancer was Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the first knight of Fianna; Rider was Iskandar the Great, the Conquering King of Macedon.

And finally Saber, King Arthur, the legendary ruler of Britain during the 5th century. The revelation of Saber's sex was a surprise, but nothing that added much to her ability as the legend of Camelot's King.

So it was no surprise that Tohsaka was in a good mood today.

"Ah, good morning, Assassin," the magus in red greeted the Servant. Assassin nodded in return, placing the objects on his desk, "What are these?"

"Photographs," he answered, "While tracking down Saber, I came across some of Caster's work."

That seemed to grab the magus' attention, "You've located Caster already? This is most fortunate news, Assassin."

"Not exactly," Assassin shot down the Tohsaka's expectations, but was still no less intrigued by the news brought to him, "I know for a fact that they're specialized in what you'd call… familiar magecraft, correct?"

"Creating familiars is a basic ritual, it's not formalized under any specific houses of magecraft," Tohsaka corrected, "However, there are some that dabble in more… eccentric versions. Why the sudden interest in this particular field?"

Assassin pointed a thumb at the photographs, prompting the magus to pick them up and look at them, "I see… did you sense any sort of magic presence from them?"

The Servant shook his head, "Whoever made that thing was able to see through its eyes though, attacked me with a knife too. Suffice to say, I wouldn't have called it a fight."

That elicited a chuckle from the magus, however slight, "Indeed, you may be incorrect that this could simply be an average familiar," his grin soured into a grimace, "If that would be the case, then turning any functional human is simultaneously a waste of time and an abominable act."

"What do you mean?"

Tokiomi set the photographs down, "Imagine this, Assassin. You share a link between yourself and Kirei, correct?"

This was obvious, but Assassin humored him with a nod anyway.

"Alright, now imagine that a human has formed a pact with a Servant, who is then supplying mana to a human-based familiar, whose upkeep would be many times larger than that of a regular animal," Tokiomi explained, "It would be a waste of mana even doing this, be it either for the Servant or the Master."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that the conclusion contains an error," Tohsaka answered, "This isn't simply a familiar, but a Doll."

"A Doll…" Assassin pondered the words.

"Specialized mimicry, a cousin of sorts to Golemancy and Puppetry. An attempt to displace the remaining consciousness of the deceased into a hollow shell," Tokiomi explained once more, "There are few figures from myth and legends that come to mind to even specialize in this, but it's very unlikely."

The Spartan turned to him, "Any sort of information would help, sir."

' _The magus Avicebron would clearly be a specialist in golemancy, but his field of magecraft is too narrow for any sort of deviation,'_ Tokiomi looked away, deep in thought, _'Or perhaps King Solomon being the foundation of modern magecraft…? Sure he would have some insight on it. But to carelessly attack those ignorant of Mystery wouldn't add up.'_

"I would need more to go off of, Assassin," the Master of Archer said, "And if a magus plays their cards right, they wouldn't reveal themselves anytime during the war with a Caster by their side."

If Tokiomi had been assigned a Caster, he'd do the same as well. They were relatively weak Servants in terms of power and durability, and often laughably mediocre in terms of agility, especially compared to the knight classes.

The Spartan hummed to himself, "So until either of them slip up, we have nothing to go off of."

"Kirei had assigned you to watch over Saber and their Master, correct?" Assassin nodded, "Keep consistent watch on them. Be they Master or Servant, they'll notice when someone is peering into them too closely and will readjust their movements in order to throw off the enemy. Wait until they get complacent and strike at the opportune moment. Unfortunately, as grotesque as it is, this isn't enough for the Mediator to call attention to. It would need to be something big, something that would violate the masquerade hiding the Moonlit World."

In just a brief explanation, Assassin had listened as Tokiomi ordered him to do what the Assassin class was already skilled at doing.

Did magi really like hearing themselves speak _this_ badly?

The Spartan nodded regardless, "I'll gather information on the rest of the combatants while I'm at it. I have a couple ideas as to how, especially with the advantages of my class container."

Tokiomi nodded back as the Servant disappeared.

Silence dominated the room once more as the magus in red leaned back in his seat, pondering to himself over the circumstances of the war already. Two days fresh into the battle of Servants, and he had already gotten a foothold over the rest, an alliance between his protege and fellow allied Master, and a Servant guaranteed to bring him the Grail.

There was simply one problem.

Cutting off his thoughts, Archer appeared in a blurred mirage-like haze, his face stoic and expressing that valiant visage as ever.

"Master," he said, a slight hint of irritation in his voice, "I have returned."

"So you have," Tokiomi Tohsaka returned, his eyes darting back to the two remaining Command Spells on the back of his hand, "I suppose you wish to speak with me over certain matters."

"Less certain and more-so one in specific," he shot back, "I can understand the use of a seal to return me if I were ever in danger, but what I don't seem to comprehend is use of one after a single death, especially one so trivial as Berserker."

The Servant watched as his Master looked down, eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated a response to the hero.

"Your Noble Phantasm is the sublimation of your journey throughout your life, accomplishing many deeds before being rewarded," Tokiomi began to parse his answer, "Nothing short of an A-rank tool, be it magecraft, brute strength, or a rival Noble Phantasm can pierce that divine vessel of yours, correct?"

Taking in the details, Archer slowly nodded, "What of it?"

"From Assassin's reports," Tokiomi motioned to where Assassin had stood previously, "He had informed me that Kirei was unable to get a vision of Berserker's parameters."

"So you sent a knife-touting vagabond to spy on us with your protege to peer through his eyes," Archer raised an eyebrow.

"Kirei is by no means unskilled in magecraft, his talent in elucidation is well-above average," Tokiomi had sent praise to the Kotomine, though disappointed by his lack of dedication over its mastery, "He would have easily been able to gleam every other Servant's parameters, just as he did with Saber."

The demigod's lips pursed as he pondered this statement before realization began to dawn, "So you believe that Berserker is under an enchantment that hides their skillset from the rest of the combatants."

Tokiomi rose from his seat, "While a hindrance, their hidden attributes are a blessing in disguise. Were any other Servant to fight you and take your life, they would be able to take advantage of the situation to either retreat or fight back."

Archer's grimace disappeared, a low chuckle escaped his lips, "A clever use of a command seal, then. A decision that I don't wholeheartedly agree with, but I will admit it does have its advantages. Disregarding my wish to challenge Rider, I will have to readjust my judgement of you, Master."

"I wasn't under the impression that were capable of humor, Archer," the Tohsaka magus smirked back.

"Neither I you," Archer shot back, "Even a hero has to jest every so often, lest they come off as nothing more than walking statues."

Tohsaka opened his mouth before closing it, decidedly neglecting to mention the fact that an innumerable number of statues of Archer existed in an equal quantity of museums and exhibits. Instead, he decided to change the subject, "Fair enough, I suppose. As for Rider… I understand you both share heritage, if historical evidence to the contrary is to be neglected."

The gargantuan Servant nodded, "Indeed, I would wish to meet the King of Conquerors on the field of battle once more, if not to test his mettle and see if he is truly worthy of sharing my blood by spilling it myself."

Tokiomi frowned slightly, looking away from his Servant and out the nearby window, the garden where Assassin's corpse had once stood now in full repair after some payment of workers refurbishing his yard and sending them off with a simple hypnosis spell.

It almost made him reconsider his plan to have Kirei order Assassin to kill Rider or his Master. Both would be preferable.

"Perhaps you shall," was all Tokiomi said. Archer only nodded, taking the words in with some doubt before disappearing in a haze of his own not unlike Assassin, leaving the magus alone once again.

Pushing away any short-sighted plans aside, Tokiomi's own words rang in his mind.

"Hiding their skillset..." the magus in red closed his eyes before shooting back open, realizing the genius that had occurred to him.

Enchantments, Dolls, Magecraft, all of it! Perhaps it wasn't the work of a Servant. Tokiomi's mind in the sea of knowledge had pulled him to one particular piece of information that lay dormant within his own memory.

If he remembered correctly, there was one family that specialized in this kind of magecraft. Dormant or maybe even dead as they were, the possibility was unlikely, but maybe there was something that can put an end to the conundrum of Caster.

He returned to the workshop beneath his mansion, intent on inquiring on the living status of a certain family. It was improbable, but perhaps possible for the Ainsworths to have continued to exist even after all these years.

**-oOo-**

The smell of engine oil and grease nearly overloaded Irisviel Von Einzbern's sense of smell as soon as she stepped into the building, the whirring and clanging sounds of tools and machinery preying upon her ears just as strongly.

Kiritsugu was busy planning for something with Maiya, so the Einzbern woman took it upon herself to get this job done. Thankfully for her, she didn't have to go alone for this endeavor.

"Ahem," her companion had coughed lightly, getting the attention of the man behind a wooden counter who'd been flipping through the local newspaper, "Sir, we require your assistance."

Lowering the newspaper revealed the man in question to be a middle-aged Japanese of below-average stature, yet still bore a couple lengths above Saber and Irisviel. The upper half of his face covered in a bright banana-themed bandana while an unlit cigar lay between yellow stained teeth.

So it was a surprise to the auto shop owner to see two European women with the keys to a Mercedes-Benz 300SL Coupe parked right outside his shop.

Where any other shop of higher regard would see a normal job, this man in particular saw a profit. With a slight cough, the man set aside the newspaper for now and looked at the two women with what could only be called glee, "Well good afternoon to you two, welcome to the Kaname Auto Shop. I'm Kaname Joji, what can I do for you lovely ladies today?"

"I…" the blonde-haired youth closed her eyes as she finally processed his words, "We'd like your services to procure a new wheel for our mode of transportation."

The man only gave her a blank look, "...What?"

"Saber, it's fine, no need to be so formal," Irisviel placed a hand on her companion's shoulder, "We're just here for a new tire, sir. Our old one broke down heading back home and the spare we're using is running thin."

Raising an eyebrow, the man leaned in through the window and noticed the spare tire underneath, colored a tad more gray than the darker three, while the tread was wearing out, "I see. I can fix this no problem."

Irisviel's eyes seemed to light up before calming back down, giving the man a smile, "Thank you so much, sir. You have no idea how much this means to us."

The man hummed lowly, taking in the information that she had inadvertently let slip, "Really now… so you got places to be, yeah?"

"We're just touring around Fuyuki for now," she answered with a nod, "We just don't want to miss anything while we're here."

"Iri," a hand found itself on her shoulder this time, causing the woman to turn and face her partner, "We don't have a lot of time right now," she then turned to the man, "How long would this task take?"

"Ten or fifteen minutes, no problem," the man shrugged, "But I need the money upfront."

"Of course, how much will that be?"

They watched as the man tapped his fingers against a nearby machine, keys clacking with a mechanical click before the screen flashed.

"Eighty-five thousand yen? That's…" Irisviel did the math in her head, "That's more than seven hundred in Europe!"

The man's expression turned sour, "You said you'd pay upfront, right? Don't you know the rates here in Fuyuki, lady?"

Irisviel stayed silent as the man only grimaced, "This is one of the only shops here that guarantee quality, ma'am. And quality comes at a hefty price."

She opened her mouth to speak, "I... I mean, we do have the money, but I just-"

"You're not in Europe anymore, lady," the man leaned over, the two could almost smell the scent of chewing tobacco, "You either pay here, or find some other shop that'll half-ass the job and swindle you out of your money."

He almost laughed at the irony, but caught himself as someone else entered. Another foreigner in thick apparel, this one being a man taller than everyone in the room at a good two meters, even having to duck his head to avoid hitting the top of the doorframe.

The bell chimed as the door finally shut. The man stood behind the two women, shuddering slightly.

"Sure is cold outside," he muttered to himself, pulling the wool cap off his head and stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket, revealing a short crop of dark auburn hair from the man's scalp. The man then turned to the three standing before him, "Hey there, am I interrupting something?"

The shop owner noticed his accent, different from the rest of the two, an American most likely, "Nothing important, just wait and I'll get to you in a moment."

The white-haired woman seemed to flinch at his answer, to which the taller man seemed to take notice, "Really now? The little lady over there doesn't seem to think this isn't important."

"It's none of your own business," the older man's grimace seemed to deepen as he watched the giant lumbering towards them, peering over the edge, "H-hey man, it's no-"

"None of my concern?" craning his neck, he saw the considerably large number on the register, "Geez, eighty-five thousand? What's this for?"

"A… new tire."

Both women watched as the man merely stroke his chin in thought, "Isn't that the price of a full change for all four tires?"

He looked back down to the shopkeeper, now red in the face, "Listen here, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but my busi- hey! I'm talking to you!"

"Pull your car into the garage," he nodded to the two women, the white-haired woman confused for a moment before nodding, "I'm going to have a little chat with our associate here."

His posture was relaxed, but even then there was a dangerous air around him that seemed to set the shopkeeper off.

The door closed with that same chime, now hauntingly terrifying as silence filled the room.

"Now then, I know a scheme when I see one, and I can tell you're a pretty smart guy from the look of things. I'm pretty recent here, so I have one simple question to familiarize myself," the foreigner spoke, a dim glint in his eye as he drew closer, "What do you know of the Fujimura Group?"

The old man paled, seeing the dangerous glare in this man's eyes, _'S-shit, is this guy here to collect?'_

"I want information, and I was told someone like you had a pretty loose tongue on the uptake," the older man gulped as the taller continued his interrogation, "Now here's exactly what you're going to do…"

* * *

"T-that'll be ten-thousand yen," the man made no efforts to move even after thirty minutes, still as a marble statue even as the money was placed right in front of him, "T-thank you, please come again."

_Ding!_

Irisviel and Saber entered the building for a tire change. What they got in return was a complimentary three extra changes, a tune-up, and a much more gargantuan stranger alongside them.

"So you said your name is…-?"

The larger man nodded, pulling the cap back over his head now that they were in the cold, placing the paper bag he had been holding between his teeth as he did so, "Call me Thom... or Tomi depending on the region. The people I know here call me the latter because it sounds more 'naturalized', whatever that means."

While Irisviel only smiled and nodded at the explanation, Saber kept herself between them, eyes flickering to the larger man ever so slightly before looking to Irisviel. Instincts had told her that something was off about him, yet this man gave off no air of being a magus or a Servant.

So why was Arturia so on edge?

"Hey, you two never told me your names," a slight frown crossed his face, but nothing more than that.

"Irisviel Von Einzbern," the woman placed a hand to her chest before motioning to the much more blonde woman beside her, "And this is my partner, Saber."

Saber noticed the crease in his brow, as though reminiscing on a distance memory. Her suspicion began to grow as he slowly turned to the homunculus woman with realization.

Before the Servant could react, the man grinned, "Von, huh? So you're German royalty or something?"

... _Oh_. Saber breathed a sigh as Irisviel teetered her head side to side in a bashful way, "It's… complicated."

"Well, any man would be lucky to have you, royalty or otherwise," the larger man shot a wink at her as they finally stopped at the car.

"Thank you," Irisviel smiled at Thom, "But I'm afraid I'm already married."

She watched as the man frowned for a moment, face still before his eyes widened in realization, "O-oh! M-my bad, I didn't realize you two were…"

Both Saber and Irisviel froze, opening the doors midway as the man's implications began to set in for the both of them.

"W-wait! It's not like-"

"We're not a-"

Thom watched as the two blushed simultaneously and began sputtering explanations simultaneously. Both stopped as the larger of the three chuckled, starting off slowly and low before it grew into a full on belly ache cacophony of laughter, red in the face as he hunched over and grabbed onto the top of the car for support.

"PFFFFTAHAHAA! You two should've seen your faces," the man nearly lost his footing then and here as the two did just that, turning to each other with shocked expressions, "Christ almighty, that was great, you two are really something!"

Irisviel's cheeks were still reddened while Arturia only squinted at the man as he began to calm down.

"Heh… whew! No no, but I understand," he dusted himself off and straightened back up, "You probably have a husband somewhere else here in Fuyuki, I'm fine with that. Anyway-"

Both Irisviel and Saber watched as he turned away, "Where are you going?"

Thom held up the bag, "Had to buy parts for my car, it broke down a while ago and I came here. Lucky you, huh?"

Before he could take another step, "Wait!"

He stopped and turned back to the source of the voice, "Hm?"

"At least let us treat you to lunch!" Irisviel responded, arm jut out to the backseats of the car.

Saber sent the woman an almost incredulous look, the sheer speed of her head snapping towards the wife of her Master would've been called impossible by a normal man had they paid attention to it for too long.

"What are you doing, Iri?" Saber whispered, pulling her closer and leaning in so that only the both of them would hear, "We only just met this man. For all we know, he could try to hurt you."

"He helped us with the car, the least we can do is repay him for his help," the woman answered back with a smile, one that was somehow devoid of ignorance... she knew what she was doing, but what was it? "Besides, if he tries anything, I have you here to protect me."

Saber pursed her lips as she turned back at the man, awaiting his answer.

"You sure?" the man asked, slowly making his way towards them, "You don't have to, that whole thing at the shop wasn't much really."

"Don't be so modest," Irisviel waved off the man's indifference with a smile, "Please, I insist. It's the least we can do."

She watched as the man looked up, scratching his cheek in thought, "Eh… alright, why not? I think I know a good place or two. Really high-end joints on the other side of town."

"We'd be delighted," Iri turned to her companion, "It's been a while since we've eaten, haven't we?"

Saber frowned, opening her mouth to protest before a loud groan let itself loose. Her eyes widened as she placed a hand to her belly, "I-I…"

"Well, someone sure is hungry!" the man clapped his hand against the blonde's shoulder, much to her chagrin, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to order extras for you too."

And just like that, her chagrin was gone. Damned was her weakness for such promises of refined meals…

**-oOo-**

**Hours Later...**

In another part of the city lied what should've been a corpse. Shambling through the night and only seen from the streetlamps that it would pass by overhead, its arm lay limply to its side as though it lacked even the sinew and muscle to keep it steady, while its leg was equally as lame and dragging as the rest.

A single eye discolored, veins and arteries and capillaries contorted, stretched, bulging over its pale skin with the parasites that fed on flesh and pain. This creature was aware of its condition, keeping their face hidden for the betterment of the people around them .

Even under such a grievous status, Kariya Matou still had the common decency to wear a hood.

The makeshift magus of a dying family, the Matou clan being a dried up and withered name that had been forced to take extreme measures for their own benefit, and the man shambling through the streets the way he was now was no better. He was no different from that vampire of a man.

And he hated it. God did he hate it.

Kariya Matou looked down at his hand, the Command seals on the back proving his right as a Master for the Holy Grail War. And in turn had given him an unstable Servant, powerful yet unwieldy as a hurricane. Berserker had made his impression, taking on Archer with swift maneuvers and somehow even managing to kill the Servant. He should've been impressed had the Archer not somehow rise from the dead.

Of course that changed when the mad knight had set his sights on Saber. All hell broke loose thereafter, sending Crest worms into a frenzy and eating away at his body faster than his wounds could be mended.

"Urgh!" Kariya bent over, the wet slap of his body crumpling to the floor as the creatures in his body began to writhe even harder, slicing into his body like razor blades as he vomited more and more out of his mouth, leaving the taste of bile and blood upon his lips.

Then he began to laugh.

The uproarious and pained laughs of Kariya broke the silence of the night, hacking coughs following soon after as he continued onward, leaving a trail of tainted blood in his wake.

That bastard, Tokiomi, he would get his revenge on that piece of shit of a magus. Him and that fucking Archer as well, no matter how many times it took for Berserker to do the job. He'd give as much of his body as he could to kill him

" **Someone seems to be enjoying himself…"** a voice suddenly made itself known. All thoughts went to a standstill as Kariya froze, rapid blinking eyes scanning the streets ahead of him as he gauged the source of this voice.

"Who are you?! Show yourself, coward!" he screamed into the night, met only with a dull silence just seconds later.

He exhaled, it was probably nothing. Maybe his Servant's madness was seeping into him...

" **Kariya Matou,"** the voice spoke again. If Kariya hadn't been strong enough to even bear the crest worms in his body, his heart would've stopped from the bone-chilling voice permeating the air, **"Such hatred, such loathing, and yet to bear it all before me is a sight to behold."**

A figure appeared under the blanket of darkness, just precisely out of range from the streetlamp the Master of Berserker stood under. He knew this was a Servant… but to who?

"What the hell do you want?"

"Oh?" the voice still held that smug tone, "Me? I simply see a troubled soul in need of assistance, you have a problem with that Tokiomi fellow, perchance?"

That got Kariya's attention, "What's it to you?"

"I have my own… grievances against him of my own, so to put it," the Servant spoke coolly, "Help me and I will get you what you so rightfully desire."

The man looked down at the concrete, watching as a fallen worm squirmed across his shoe. Closing his eyes, he knew that this wasn't someone to be trusted, that this was some sort of incomprehensible evil ploy.

The roar of Berserker split the air, reappearing in front of the Matou as he reared his fist back, ready to punch a hole into this new foe. The shadowy black armor of gauntlets flew with the force of a jet engine, eager to spill blood with unrelenting carnage.

Only for it to stop. The fist of Berserker shaking fiercely as it struggled to even touch the Servant.

So it surprised Kariya when he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

The Servant laughed, looking down at the rapidly disappearing Command seal on Kariya's hand,"Haha, fantastic! I simply need you to… run some errands for me, all of this will culminate in the death of your most rivaled foe, this… Tokiomi Tohsaka, correct?"

Kariya nodded, a dark gleam burning in his eyes as the translucent aura of Berserker loomed over him, over this new Servant.

The Servant stretched out his hand, "Then I believe it is settled, we both have a common enemy and shall seek to eliminate him at once. As your new ally in this war, I will tell you my plans to take care of each Servant before reaching Tohsaka."

He was playing with fire, dealing with this new Servant. This man reeked of obvious maliciousness, seemingly charismatic and bumblingly… flamboyant as he may appear. But that didn't matter, what mattered was saving Rin from her corrupt father and… Sakura, the one most in his thoughts, the one that was his sole reason for joining this war in the first place.

Kariya reached out, shaking the hand of this new associate of his

"I can assure you, dear Matou, I will not disappoint," Caster grinned as the sound of an explosion in the distance shook the very foundations of Fuyuki, smile growing ever wider as the smell of smoke began to reach them. With that, the Servant disappeared, "I'll be in touch…"

For the first time ever since the war started, for all his life as a knight of the round table even in his addled and broken shell of a state… the Knight of the Lake was afraid.


	4. Miscalculation

Kiritsugu found himself standing in front of a ruined crater.

His breath shuddered as he saw what should've been the Hyatt Hotel right now. Pieces of glass and brick lay at his feet as he watched the aftermath of destruction continue to vomit its fiery fumes into the atmosphere.

The charges he set weren't on a timer, the wiring and explosives were all in pristine condition before they were placed. He was always sure, always correct, and always prepared for the plan he would have to enact.

It went off without a hitch for the very first few seconds. Pulling the fire alarm and blending into the crowd as soon as everyone left and crowded him, then after that would be one less Master in the Grail War. The Servant would survive without a doubt, but the lack of mana to sustain him would take care of the rest.

But something went wrong immediately after. So so very wrong.

His breath shuddered, veins nearly torn to their limits at the extended use of his Time Alter. Face remained ever stoic, but the modest amount of torn cigarettes dropped on the ground and shaky fingers told a very different story.

The fire alarm had been rigged… he figured that out afterwards. Kiritsugu never once considered that a third party would ever get involved, and that had been his own undoing.

Or rather, the hundreds, maybe even a thousand people now buried under a concrete grave.

From the distance could one make out some of the bodies poking out from the ruins. Blood pooling like a disgusting display of a fountain, while the small hand of a child poked out of the rubble...

It was his time magecraft that saved his life… but his life wasn't enough. The death of a thousand to kill one was… no… stop!

Kiritsugu had long since gone and the Magus Killer took his place in that single instant, his heart turning to stone even faster than the mythological gorgon could do to anyone. A thousand lives for the sake of the world was a drop in the ocean by comparison.

It was a mistake, but one that held the silver lining of getting rid of one nuisance of a magus.

Little did he know that a ball of mercury had managed to emerge from its stone prison.

**-oOo-**

"Assassin," Kirei spoke, waiting for only seconds before his Servant rematerialized before him.

"What's the situation,?" the Servant reappeared, still wearing that same form-fitting black undersuit and mask.

"Did you happen to see the news by chance?" the priest queried, earning a shake of the head from his Servant in response, "If you're not aware, there was an incident regarding Fuyuki's Hyatt hotel-"

"-and some explosives," Assassin finished, "I know, I was around when it happened. I heard it was a gas leak that collapsed the building… and everyone inside was killed."

Kirei Kotomine stayed silent as his Servant was already putting together the pieces, finally speaking up after some time had passed, "The perpetrator behind this was Kiritsugu Emiya."

That name again, Assassin's worries began to arise from his Master's apparent obsession. Even then, the Heroic Spirit remained silent, pondering the news to himself.

"And now why would he do that?" Kirei asked. Knowing the answer of course, he decided to test his Servant.

"There were traces of magical energy that I sensed there… perhaps it was to take out an enemy Master," Assassin thought to himself, "The only possibilities would be Lancer, since I'd assume he'd want to get rid of Saber's curse to prevent further impedance towards his objective. But even then… he activated the fire alarm… why would he do that if everyone inside was going to be killed anyway?"

Hmph, perhaps the Executor gave his Servant too little credit. Nevertheless, Assassin nodded at his own deduction, thinking on what to do with the information given.

It was obvious there was interference. Caster once again most likely.

Kirei then watched as he removed his mask for the second time since the start of the War. He glanced to himself in a nearby mirror before turning back to his Master, "I've already discovered a way to infiltrate and gain the trust of Emiya's allies in broad daylight, or at least Saber and her companion, it won't be easy until I find an opportunity to strike. However, there are still some key items missing that I need to finalize this trust."

"Oh? Do tell."

"The Einzbern woman is obviously not her Master, the lack of Command Spells are really the only indicator I could go off of… but she's clearly someone that Saber trusts, more so than maybe even her legitimate Master, from what I could gleam from his presence… or rather lack thereof."

All of this from a simple meeting?

Nevertheless, Kotomine allowed his Servant to continue.

"So long as I have the Einzbern's trust, Saber would be unable to suspect a thing. She's wary of me now, though I can break down this barrier with time. But…" the Servant inhaled sharply, "It depends on the funds you have to spare… Master."

Despite appearing as a functionally machine-like and emotionless Servant only used for war, the look on Kirei Kotomine's face was priceless.

**-oOo-**

A wall had almost been destroyed not even a minute ago, one belonging to the Einzbern manor within the dining room. It was done with neither explosive, nor weapons, nor even through magic, just pure raw strength.

So it was perfectly natural to assume the potential damage had been done by the work of a powerful Servant, right? Well, many would assume the Saber class to be the most powerful Servant in the Holy Grail War, so that would be no farther from the truth.

A wall had almost been destroyed not even two minutes ago had Arturia Pendragon let her anger take hold for even a moment. Her Master and Irisviel had left the room after their meeting.

Or rather, it was a meeting between Kiritsugu, Irisviel, and that other woman, Maiya. Saber was left with no response from her Master as he droned on despite her exclamations. It was like sitting there and being told that she didn't know better by callous parents. She may have been a Heroic Spirit, but was she simply that much of a ghost to him?

Arturia's face contorted into a scowl as she strode through the hallway. Pure moonlight poured through the glass, painting a silver portrait upon the red carpets as Saber passed by each one.

The King of Knights wanted to hate Kiritsugu, but she swallowed down that hatred, smothering it with the deeds of his that Irisviel had told her of as well as her desire for the Grail. She had sought it in a previous life, a life she had well preferred than this one.

But did she really? She thought of the battle between her and Lancer, the once in a lifetime duel between two legends. The battle was exhilarating and left her wanting more from that bout, a true fight between two knights, pitting nothing but their honor and blades against one another to see who would come out the victor. Then there was Irisviel, the adorable woman who was practically stuck at the hip with her, always curious and ever joyful to experience the little things of life and the world around her.

That came crashing down when she was contrasted by the man Irisviel loved… the man Saber resented, but could never fully admit to hating. He was her Master and she was his Servant, she hated his methods but could somewhat respect the aspect that he knew their relationship stemmed purely from a singular goal that both sought to achieve.

That much she could at least give credit to.

Arturia found herself looking out of a balcony, gazing down at the trees in the distance. Her head fell into her hands as her eyes scanned through the woods.

This was probably how Guinevere felt every time she left for her duties as a King. Always waiting for her husband to return with that weary and galant smile. Her duties as the ruler of Britain was unforgiving, but it was necessary.

Thinking of Britain made her think of her kingdom, which in turn made her think of her knights, which then looped back to the here and now. Her current thoughts on that stranger they met, that… "Thom", if she remembered correctly.

Saber appreciated his company to some degree, especially when Irisviel was around, they seemed to be make good conversation in contrast to her more… reserved demeanor. It wasn't that Arturia didn't trust him, she simply still had her suspicions.

A day after a fierce battle and they immediately run into someone new, and a foreigner like herself? There had to be some coincidence in that, right?

"Or maybe…" the woman whispered to herself, "Maybe I'm just overthinking this."

Saber wasn't always one to have doubts, always the firm and resolute one. It was what made her a king in all aspects but what lay beneath her trousers, having to hide her true identity behind a mask of resolve.

A flash of gold and her most sacred sword was in her hands, the wind magic dispelled as she traced the dimly glowing blade with a finger. Her left thumb still lay unmoving, forcing her to bite back a curse as she chastised her own foolishness during her duel with Lancer.

Nevertheless that man, Irisviel's new friend she meant, didn't seem to have any intention to harm them even under her watchful gaze, but that didn't make her any less cautious. There was always the possibility, unlikely as it was, that any one of their friends made along the way could be a Servant or any other threat that could pose just as well.

Though Servants were one of their bigger priorities. Aside from that, all they could do now was wait.

She imagined Irisviel and Kiritsugu talking but didn't know what was about, maybe for once her Master showing some genuine emotion to his wife as she smiled.

And in turn, so did Saber.

The woods were still, for only the briefest of moments, nothing moved. Not the trees, the leaves, nor even the creatures that trod upon the earth. The entirety of the Einzbern manor was calm, serene silence permeating the walls.

Until the forest exploded.

Or rather, a series of consecutive blows that leveled a straight path to the manor that rivalled explosions. Shrapnel of wood shards skewered the forest floor as a newcomer trampled through the forest.

Aiming straight for Arturia Pendragon.

Acting on her instincts, the Heroic Spirit of the Sword took hold of her weapon, becoming enclosed in wind magic once more as she leapt off of the balcony, shooting off like a bullet towards this adversary as she was encased in her magic armor once more.

The two finally collided, a crater forming around the two as their weapons were locked together in a fierce stalemate. Finally coming face to face with her foe, their identity was obvious from the get go.

"Berserker!?"

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" the mad knight roared in fury as they delivered a swift kick into Saber's midsection, forcing her back before finally skidding to a halt.

In his hands was what appeared to be a blackened tree trunk, several branches having splinted and flew off after Saber's singular blow, leaving only a deadly bludgeoning object.

No words could be spoken between them, for having her speak to the mad knight would be like coaxing away a storm with words alone. Saber could grant this mad knight a decent battle, whoever he was at least deserved some dignity before their death.

Instincts fired again and she leaped back at the sound of whistling. A pair of spears embedding themselves in an x-shaped formation before Lancer entered the fray, prying the pair from the earth before holding them in each hand.

"Lancer!" Saber exclaimed as she dodged another blow from the mad knight. Perhaps he had been tracking this mad beast and was lead here, "I am in need of your aid. Assist me in ridding Berserker from the War and we can finally have the duel we've longed for."

His face was pained, contorted into a wrathful scowl as he only pointed his single red spear to her, "I would be more than happy to, Saber. But due to the wording of my master's previous command seal… I'm afraid I must abide by his word… and help Berserker kill you even now."

Saber's eyes went wide as he disappeared in a flash, reappearing on the opposite side of Berserker, who was currently holding Saber still in their bladelock with a bare log.

Right behind the legendary King of Knights.

"I'm sorry," was all he said before thrusting the spear forward, closing his eyes as he did so.

It shamed him to kill a worthy foe so dishonorably. This act daring to stain his very soul for such a cheated maneuver.

_PING!_

Gae Dearg had been misdirected, cutting through the magical armor and grazing Saber's shoulder before the Servant reoriented her balanced, ducking under Berserker's swing as Lancer did so as well to avoid being sent flying into the nearest tree.

Diarmuid whipped his head back before hearing another whistling sound pass by his ears, blocking and dodging several more arrows.

"Archer…" Lancer muttered to himself as he skidded to a halt, turning back to face the two knights locked in combat. He could only watch as another stream of arrows were let loose between them, forcing them apart as their battle hardened instincts had warned them so.

"You're not Iskandar… but you'll do for now," the Servant of the Bow appeared once more with that wrapped bow in hand, the gargantuan Heroic Spirit stood before the blackened knight once more, turning to Saber with a nod, "Berserker shall be mine, Saber. Upon my own name and honor as one of the Servants of the Knight Class, I will allow your duel with Lancer."

Both Servants of Sword and Spear both looked surprised, turning towards each other with their own weapons at the ready as Archer began his own duel with Berserker, who seemed more angered than ever with the larger man interrupting their fight.

With a maddened roar once more, Berserker charged at his foe with reckless abandon. Archer only grinned as his bow disappeared from sight and stood his ground. With unmatched strength, the black knight swung the weaponized log in their hand at him, snapping the improvised weapon in two as it made contact with the giant with a resounding _crack!_

Wood shards and splinters were strewn about the battlefield before Berserker launched another swing from his right fist into the face of Archer, maddening cries of insanity growing ever more louder as he did so.

What he didn't expect was for Archer to catch his fist without hesitation.

"The same trick won't work twice on me, mad knight," the Servant of the Bow spoke with a low growl before retaliating with a strike of his own. Without letting go of Berserker, Archer launched a strike of his own, an uppercut from his right catching the knight directly below the chin of their helmet, causing their head to snap up in pain.

With a slight grunt, Archer took hold of Berserker's arm with both hands while they were still in a daze, whipping around in a complete spin before finally letting go. As soon as both hands left the knight, Berserker found themselves sailing through the forest at mach speeds, the sound barrier breaking as hundreds of trees were destroyed by Archer's counterattack, skipping along the floor like a smooth rock upon water before finally coming to a halt, a small crater having formed as Berserker struggled to stand once more.

Looking back up, Berserker caught sight of Archer, his bow now in hand with an arrow nocked at the ready.

Archer aimed with a single arrow and fired, hoping to catch the maddened Servant between the eyes. Time almost slowed down as he let go, letting the arrow fly as it traveled freely through the air, seemingly slicing through it as it finally hit Berserker. Archer watched as the arrow made contact, exploding in a haze of dust.

The cloud of dust surrounding Berserker combined with his own hazy enchantment made it hard for Archer to make out the condition of his adversary.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" a roar split the air as out from the dust charged that mad knight. Blackened tendrils from various parts of his armor whipping out in a frenzy as the space between both Heroic Spirits began to narrow. An arrow split the air once more, aimed for the gaps in Berserker's helmet. Whipping about the battlefield, a tendril grabbed a lone rock off of the grass and lashed forth. Arrow collided with blackened rock and the projectile exploded.

All under a second and Berserker continued his onslaught.

Archer frowned and fired another arrow, then another, and another once more, _'So he's using the very battlefield to his advantage… truly an awe-inspiring knight even beneath that shroud of madness."_

But the sounds of battle clashing behind Archer told a different story. Saber and her duel with Lancer was far from coming to a close, but the passion behind each strike sought to end it as soon as possible.

For a moment, Berserker drew closer, arms just barely able to touch the larger man as he reached out with wrathful intent.

Until Archer took a step back.

The mind's eye that lay within Archer read the battlefield around him. Even without truly seeing, the Servant of the Bow was able to tell where and when each Servant was capable of striking. Take, for example, Lancer just about to make a well-aimed strike for Saber's breastplate as she was left exposed due to the negligence of the curse in her arm, back nearly touching Archer as he too was nearly within striking distance.

A single move can change the outcome of any battle. With but a shove from Archer's hand and a swivel of his foot, Saber was sent hurtling away and Archer was able to sidestep the blow.

With that single move, Gae Dearg sliced through Berserker's armor, dispelling the enchantment that beheld his identity for the briefest of moments. While Lancer leapt back, eyes the size of dinner plates as he witnessed the identity of the knight standing before him.

"...Oh," Diarmuid swallowed, glancing towards Saber, who was just now picking herself back up, blood pooling from her lips from the force of Archer's retaliation.

The mad knight let out a roar of pain as he pulled out the spear and tossed it aside, which just so happened to be in Lancer's direction as the blackened enchantment hid himself once more.

"It's too late, Berserker," said Servant turned his head, letting out a grunt of pain as a muscled fist found itself into the helmet of the mad knight. Rocketing like a speeding bullet, several more arrows were shot forth, striking various parts of the Servant before another force slammed against Berserker's back, crumpling the armor like paper and shattering the ground as he met the ground face first as Archer had reappeared behind the knight, relentlessly assaulting Berserker.

"I've already seen your face, Berserker, I already know your True Name. That armor of yours is recognizable by even the lowliest of spirits that exist within the Throne of Heroes," Berserker threw another wild punch, only to be caught in the back and pinned down by the Servant of the bow.

"Show me your true Noble Phantasm if you wish to even stand a chance of surviving against me."

Berserker went still as his foe continued to pin him down, the mad knight now fully aware that his opponent was no longer playing around.

"Show me Arondight, Sir Lancelot."

* * *

Assassin was playing a most dangerous game, hunting a deadly prey as four Heroic spirits were locked in battle just outside and both the Master of Lancer and the Magus Killer were in a fight of their own. Rematerializing into a body of flesh, Assassin felt the line of mana that Kirei had shared with him.

It appears that the priest didn't need his help even against two of Kiritsugu's own allies.

Nevertheless, the Spartan felt a presence within the Einzbern castle, a familiar that he had sensed at the beginning of the war. It was like that of the Doll that he had come across, but many times stronger than before.

The Servant of the Shadows slinked down a corridor with the grace of a cat, hardened instincts fired into his mind as his ears picked up the sound of gunfire. Peeking out of the corner, he caught the form of Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald walking away with a fresh new bullet wound in his shoulder as a result of his carelessness.

He had to give it to the Magus Killer, Assassin couldn't help but be at least somewhat impressed by Emiya's practicality. Never did he think he'd see another user of firearms, especially in Japan.

Brushing away the thought, the Spartan crossed the corridor in silence, not bothering to take the risk of being seen by the magus. Unsheathing his knife, Assassin followed the mana trail, intent on finding this oh-so familiar source that had appeared before him once more. Perhaps the two mortal foes were busy fighting one another to notice this presence, or didn't bother to find out as they were too focused on one another to care.

Nevertheless, the Spartan was grateful for these small details as he traveled undisturbed.

It didn't take too long for the Assassin to find the source of the presence. It only lie beyond a single wooden door, brown and featureless as it was, it could've still been a trap for any Servant foolish enough to-

**PTEW!**

The sound of muffled gunshots and the smell of gunpowder permeated the air, Assassin stumbled back as three new holes had formed on his body, all of which dangerously close to his heart, but not enough to outright kill. The Servant of the Dagger bit back a pained hiss as the bullets had successfully managed to puncture his own bodysuit as blood slowly pooled out from the wounds.

The fact that a mundane weapon had managed to damage him told Assassin enough about the identity of this presence.

Caster decided to show himself.

Assassin pushed his weight forward broke down the door with ease, the frame itself cracked somewhat as the Servant stumbled in, dagger in hand and ready to face off against his foe.

What he got instead was a shadowy figure clutching a stack of papers in their left hand while the other was a thin and still-smoking rifle. Assassin barely managed to catch a glimpse of their appearance before they disappeared in a haze of mana.

Immediately too. His Master must've used a Command Seal in that moment.

It was an office of some sort, a nearby cabinet opened up violently and dozens of sheets of paper strewn about the place. Six walked towards the center of the room and picked one up, studying the contents before tossing it aside. It was information.

Information on the combatants of the war that Kiritsugu had gathered over a period of time.

The sound of even more gunfire caught his ears, followed by more loud crashes against nearby walls. It seemed as though the entire caste was being shaken by the battle going on within the confines of the hallways.

"Speak of the devil," Assassin hissed to himself as he turned and left the room, ignoring the wounds on his chest and turning back to the source of the gunfire.

A single gunshot was all he heard, much different than the rapid fire of the Magus Killer's Calico.

A single gunshot… and just like that, a magical presence died, the circuits of a magus fried out, torn and twisted beyond repair. Sputtering gasps, cries of agony as Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald had keeled over, barely clinging to life as he laid in a pool of his own Mystic Code.

Assassin watched the scene play out from afar, the hallways darkened by moonlight and shattered light bulbs as the mix of blood and mercury reflected the luminescence. Kiritsugu Emiya strode forward, perhaps to finish off his opponent before stopping.

Lancer had returned to his Master's side, both spears held up menacingly as he stared down the Magus Killer, "That's enough from you, Master of Saber."

Both Assassin, peering out from the room, and Kiritsugu watched as Lancer picked his Master up without effort, "I could easily kill you right here and now, especially for interrupting my duel with Saber, but my Master's safety is now my highest priority."

The Servant of the shadows blinked, leaning in to see that Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald was now missing yet another Command Seal from his twitching hand. He assumed Emiya had done the same, lowering the submachine gun in response.

Lancer's eyes hardened before turning away, "Your death will not be guaranteed now, as the promise of another fight with Saber shall elate me so. But after Saber is dead, I will come for you next, you pitiful excuse for a Master."

" _Master, Kiritsugu's within range, Lancer's Master has been incapacitated and is currently in full retreat via Lancer,"_ Assassin spun the blade into a reverse grip, _"He won't even see me approaching."_

As soon as Lancer left, Assassin burst into a silent sprint, the Magus Killer unaware of his own impending doom as the Servant crossed the hallway in the blink of an eye. The blade in his hand intent on digging into the Master's back and piercing his heart before exiting and stabbing into the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord for good measure. Assassin's dagger just barely the tip of a needle's length away from completing his objective-

" _No."_

Before he could even finish the deed, Assassin found himself within the woods. Silent as the death he wished to deliver. The Spartan looked around, sensing several sources of mana some distances away: two stronger ones fading away, both of them obviously Servants; while a weaker one had long since ran from the two former.

Unfortunately for the Spartan, he was aware that the presence was his Master, having disengaged from his own objective and preferring to stay away from the heat of two Servants duking it out.

The command had been etched into his mind as soon as he reappeared here, a command that forced his hand from killing the Master of Saber, one of the most powerful Servants in the Holy Grail War.

The Spartan was completely unaware that his hands were trembling. Assassin-class Servants were calm, methodical types that were tailored to the deaths of unsuspecting foes, particularly Masters.

Noble Six was far from calm, especially with his own purpose of even being summoned taken away from him by his own Master. The Spartan closed his eyes, palm pressed against his helmet, where his forehead would've been.

"I'm getting sick of your games, _Master_ ," Assassin whispered to himself, twirling the dagger between his fingers in an unconscious habit of irritation. He'd have to speak with Kirei over this apparent breach of his own mission.

He understood that his Master had taken particular attention to Saber's Master… but the Spartan didn't expect such obsession to run this far deep. It seemed as though Kirei's hoping to gain something from their interaction.

That begged the question: what?

A shuddering gasp snapped him out of his thoughts, his senses expanding and tuning themselves to find an even weaker presence beginning to sputter out. With a sigh, Assassin broke into a slow sprint, which for anyone else would've been the equivalent of a competing Olympic sprinter.

It could've been an enemy Master on the verge of death, he hadn't seen Berserker's Master around, but considering the Servant themselves had been handled by Archer's sudden intrusion.

Assassin finally slowed down, crawling to a walk as he finally got within view of his target, who had been lying on their stomach. Only things that stuck out to him was a black suit and… an absurd amount of blood. The gaping hole sticking out of their back wasn't helping either.

The Spartan knelt down, looking over the wounded with a slight tilt of his head. Carefully with both hands, he turned the person over to get a better look at their face.

"Oh," was all the Spartan said. Of all the people he suspected, he didn't expect _her_.

That begged another question, Assassin thought to himself as he looked around the woods: What the hell happened here?

* * *

**Moments Earlier…**

Lancer watched as Archer continued his bout with the mad knight. Berserker's fighting ability, while ferocious, held a level of skill that only a true knight would possess; but even then Archer was holding his own quite well, able to match the black knight blow for blow and even managing to overtake him just by pure brute force.

And to keep up with a Knight of the Round Table blow for blow? Remarkable! Even if he was summoned as a Berserker, the combat ability that belonged to Sir Lancelot never once withered.

But… did Saber know about Berserker's origins?

Diarmuid parried another blow from the shorter woman, her burning eyes completely focused on him with that same intensity.

No… perhaps she didn't, Archer had pushed her aside and felled her before she could get a chance to see. And it would shatter her resolve to learn what happened to her most beloved of knights.

So he kept his mouth shut, for Saber's sake.

"What's the matter, Saber?" Lancer grinned as he thrusted Gae Buidhe once more, watching as sparks flew off of Saber's holy sword, "Having trouble keeping up with a little cut?"

Saber's response was to strike even harder, forcing Lancer to take a step back as he was sent skidding, only able to stop as he dug his lance into the ground.

"Hardly," her answer was partnered with a playful smirk before charging back towards him, forcing him on the defensive with a downward strike, the harsh blow from the wind nearly forcing him to take a knee, but he refused to kneel to his equal, the King of Knights that had honored Lancer in single combat, "Prepare to meet your end, Diarmuid!"

Another gust of wind blew apart his defenses before Saber thrusted forward. Spears in hand thrown out to their sides and exposing him for a fatal blow. But Lancer was prepared to win against his opponent, even willing to make a bold risk in order to hold the advantage.

Saber watched as he let go of both spears, bringing his hands together to catch the blade in his palms just in time. It was by pure dumb luck alone that Lancer's hands had caught themselves on the flattened ends rather than the blade itself, but the abrupt stop still caused some blood to leak from his hands, dispersing across the blade in a red spray.

"As I said before, Saber," the green spearman grinned, "I already memorized the length of your blade, it shan't be necessary to hide it any longer."

The swordswoman pulled her sword back and responded with a swift kick to Lancer's abdomen, throwing him back before catching the spears now embedded in the ground and slowing his movements down to a crawl.

"Whether you can see it doesn't matter, Lancer," Saber replied, raising her sword to eye level, blade pointed at the man, "But whether or not you're fast enough to stop it in time does!"

A burst of speed unparalleled to all fighting shattered the air around Saber, creating a vacuum within that split second as she charged at Lancer in the blink of an eye. The two knights clashed with a ferocity unmet before as the area around them was torn asunder and resembled a battlefield proper.

Meanwhile on the other side of the forest, Archer and Berserker raged on. The mad knight having managed to pull himself free from the giant's grasp and kicking him away, helmet twitching slightly at the sight of his grin.

"Come on then, knight of the Round Table," Archer crossed his arms, "Surely you wish to save that blade for your king, do you not?"

Of course, Berserker said nothing. Archer didn't expect an answer anyway… but he did want a response. So the Servant of the Bow merely unfolded his arms, looking back to the battle of the other two Servants, "And your king just so happens to be nearby, perhaps I can go tell her and let her know that you've made your retu-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!" Berserker let out a high wail of anger, disappearing in a flash and reappearing behind the gargantuan Heroic Spirit.

The Servant Lancelot stood back up to full height, the haze gone and that blackened sword in his hands. Berserker looked back while Archer did the same, a surprised look on his face as his body began to separate, a thin line starting from the corner of his left shoulder to the top of his right pelvic bone.

In that instant, a single life had been claimed from the force alone, and Arondight taking two more in that same instance.

With that, Berserker disappeared from the battlefield, called forth from the choking cries of his own Master as Archer was now left to pull himself back together… quite literally, before he too dematerialized and disappeared.

Tokiomi would not be happy about this revelation...

Only two remained.

Saber coughed up blood from her wounds, bloody vomit sliding down the length of her blade as she looked up at her rival, "I guess, this is the end of the line for us, Lancer," her hacking coughs miming laughter as her lips pulled up into a smile, "I'm glad to have met you, Diarmuid."

Lancer looked back with a pleased smile on his face, despite the gore that covered it, "Likewise, King of Knights, your presence honors me with a fierce battle that should be sung throughout the ages. But… you're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

In the midst of battle, both combatants had decided to end their battle with a thundering finale. Both Servants skewered upon the opponent's blades. Excalibur hidden in its sheath of wind stabbing Lancer through the chest, while Gae Dearg having sliced through Saber's magical armor. Both having missed vital weakpoints by mere fractions… and were now in the middle of a stalemate.

Nevertheless, it was true, they both knew it. One could end the other at any point in time if they so wished, but it was a gamble neither were willing to take. The mind's eye of Lancer saw Saber releasing a burst of prana, widening the wound and blowing his innards apart, while Saber's Instinct saw Lancer slice out her throat with that other golden spear in his hand, sealing her fate with yet another cursed wound.

Two unstoppable forces opposed each other, it would've simply been a matter of which would give out first. The wind blew by, tossing up a gust as the loosened braid of Arturia's hair fell down, clinging to her face as sweat and blood dripped. Even under such grievous conditions, she looked no less kingly, possibly even more so under the heat of battle.

In truth, Saber was fading quickly, not enough mana to even give her the strength to lift her sword. Her wounds were serious, if not outright fatal. But it didn't matter, Arturia wouldn't dare disrespect her opponent by showing such weakness. Not even as he pulled the shorter spear back, aiming for her neck as realization quickly dawned on him.

"Goodbye, Saber," Lancer thrust the blade forward, Saber closed her eyes and awaited death to swiftly greet her.

Instead, she only felt the wind in her hair as a gust blew it back. Saber opened her eyes to find that Lancer was gone, vanished in a burst of mana. Arturia breathed a sigh, blood pooling from her lips as she started to lose balance, "Perhaps next time... Lancer."

With the Gae Dearg gone, there was nothing to keep her standing on her feet. Her face quickly met the grass as her sword and armor disappeared, her vision started to blur and fade as Servant Saber was left to die alone in the woods.

Even as a Servant, she failed to notice the approaching steps of a nearby stranger…

**-oOo-**

Irisviel woke up with a start, pulling herself over to her side as blood spilled from her lips. She let out a shuddering gasp, vision coming into focus as she spotted Maiya lying not too far away from her as well. The young woman looked down to see the three stab wounds on her midsection had disappeared.

It was all thanks to Avalon that she had survived…

Her face darkened as memory returned to her. That man… Kirei…

The clouds passed by overhead, it was still night. How long had she been unconscious? Minutes? An hour? Two?

It didn't matter at this point. What mattered was what happened next.

"M-...Maiya?" the pale woman turned the unconscious woman on her back, seeing blood dripping down from her lips. Eyes widened as her hand pressed against her own lips, the other pressed against Maiya's chest, searching for… for…

_Thu-thump… thu-thump…_

Irisviel exhaled. A heartbeat, it was faint, but it was still there. Her hands shook as mind began to still itself, focusing on the priorities at hand.

The wounds that Maiya had bore began to knit together, the soft green glow of healing magic placing itself into effect as the black-haired gunman was finally stabilized. Irisviel noticed that Maiya looked oddly peaceful for the first time since… well, this is probably the first time at all she ever saw her like this.

Fighting alongside Kiritsugu on all sorts of missions. She couldn't even imagine all the things she's seen and done over the years.

Another thump got her attention. The healing came to a halt as she turned around to see a grisly sight before her.

It was Saber, her clothes were in tatters while her limbs had been wrapped in strips of her own suit. Once immaculate porcelain skin now caked and spattered with blood, Saber's face twitched and contorted into heavily pained expressions as Irisviel stared down in horror.

Irisviel swallowed, breathing in deep and steadying her breathing as soon as she realized she was hyperventilating.

"H-how…?" she tried to speak, words trying to come out of her mouth but failed.

' _How did she even get here?'_ Irisviel's thoughts finished for her. Her eyes flickered down to see the blood trailing from Saber's lips. She immediately responded by laying her hands on the forms of both women lying unconscious before her, focusing her healing thaumaturgy on the two.

It would take longer, now that she was providing for two people rather than one, but they'd be fine eventually. In the meantime, Iri would have to keep an eye on the two and keep them safe for now.

A hollow laugh left her lips for the briefest of moments. Right, now she was the one taking care of them, the same that had been in charge of taking care of her in the first place.

Such was… such was the luck of Irisviel Von Einzbern, she supposed.

Saber was beautiful in her own way as well. A young pretty blonde girl with regality yet bearing a strange type of innocence unknown from the world. That little strand of hair that never failed to stick out was flicked aside as the young homunculus girl looked down, watching as the blood from her body began to fade as her wounds continued to heal.

The largest injury, that gaping and pulsating hole underneath her ribcage began to pull itself together until it left an ugly gash that would eventually heal.

Questions sprung into Iri's mind, but the largest were on her mind: who had dealt so much injury to her that it would force her into unconsciousness… and who went out of their way to patch her up long enough to bring her here?

The first answer was much easier to answer than the second. Of course it had to be Lancer, Saber would've learnt her lesson against Lancer's battle with both spears and would've worn it during the entirety of the fight. Perhaps her earlier wound would've played to Lancer's advantage suffered the consequences… but that fact that she was still here meant that Lancer was probably wounded just as much.

Now for the second answer. Any and all possibilities fizzled out, it couldn't have been a Servant or a nearby Master, they would've killed the Saber Servant purely because of her power. It was an impossibility that now left Irisviel without thought… and that frustrated her to no end.

Whoever it was, she'd have to thank later. But now?

For now, they needed to rest.

**-oOo-**

"...!"

Assassin grunted as a Doll had appeared from within the trees, slamming their fist into the man's gut as he had been suckerpunched out of nowhere. The grunt was less out of pain and more that he was even surprised in the first place. Was this some kind of magecraft that dulled his senses?

The force of the blow sent him skidding back. The punch was comparable to a Servant bearing C-rank Strength. Just what the hell was Caster pumping into these things?

Another appeared out of the corner of his eye. A flash of steel entered the Spartan's hand as he sliced upward, stepping away as several digits had then fallen to the ground.

Three more entered the fold as the last Doll that attacked was clutching their still bleeding hand, now three fingers less than before.

All of them in various apparel. Dresses and suits, casual and business, there was no discrimination over what vessels Caster had decided to take for himself, only that they would fulfill their uses: getting rid of Assassin.

Assassin's battle senses flared to life, dulled however much they were, as every vile puppet began their assault. The Servant weaved through every blow with all the skill of a trained martial artist, retaliating in return with quick stabs through the spines, necks, and heads of his enemies.

Before long, each one had been taken care of. All of which lying in a pool of their own blood. Assassin shook his head, disappointed by Caster's underestimation of his own class.

On the most technical of definitions, Assassin and Caster Servants were by far the weakest in the grand scale of the Grail War. Casters were physically weaker and their magecraft often did little against the Knight classes with their resistance towards such. While Assassins bore no resistance and could only make do by removing the Masters.

Though Assassin would have to give it to this elusive Caster, the fact that he was having to play scout for his Master was certainly giving the Servant a bad impression of his own physical ability. He could only hope no other Servants in a future Grail war would have to go through this horrendous experie-

_SHING!_

The Servant gasped, blood pouring from his mouth as a blade had found itself embedded into his back. The Spartan stumbled forward, eyes bloodshot as he spun the knife in his hand and buried it into the skull of his opponent.

Blade met stone as it clattered against the hard surface of this new foe. Assassin's eyes widened behind his helmet as more and more of these things appeared before him.

Were these… golems?

Thin skeletal automatons began to sprout from the hollowed out vessels of the Dolls they inhabited, like a snake shedding its skin… only on a scale that unnerved even the steel-bound Spartan.

Sheathing the knife, Assassin raised his fists, still bleeding from his wrist and back, one from a surprise attack and the other for… well, he'll have to speak with his Master about that particular issue later.

About a dozen golems, more or less, fingers like blades and their skeletal bodies like the carapace of a scarab beetle… meaning they might as well be shit.

Glowing amber eyes flickered in the dark woods, all of them unmoving as though waiting for a response from the Assassin.

"You're getting desperate, Caster," was all Assassin said before shooting forth with the speed of a bullet. The man's fist smashing through the skin of one golem before sidestepping a swipe from another.

The Spartan would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't pissed off by Caster and his blatant ignorance of his own status as a Servant.

Dodging another stab aimed at his neck, the Spartan took hold of the arm about to gouge him and snapped it off with little effort before smashing it over the golem's head, breaking both skull and limb alike as it fell apart.

An elbow strike and a kick to the side and two more fell in place. Assassin was only somewhat entertained, if he could even call it a thing. He wouldn't often be excited about fighting, but it was a purpose that he was born to do, so even fighting these worthless training dummies might as well perform some modicum of satisfaction to the Spartan.

A minute later and Assassin finally permanently dismantled the golems. His body was marred with slight nicks and scratches, merely lucky hits that the golems had gotten on him.

The Spartan sighed to himself, crushing a broken golem arm beneath his foot, "I'm getting soft."

Nevertheless, he managed to get a feel for Caster's intentions and whatever other powers the Servant of magecraft was capable of. Sending some lackeys after him to get rid of a witness and failing miserably, perhaps to gauge him for the future.

With that being said, Assassin disappeared, leaving only the corpses and broken machinery strewn about.

Unknown to him, two had been watching him through the eyes of these automatons.


	5. Miscalculation

Caster looked down at his handiwork, the results brought a gratifying feeling followed by a sense of euphoria. The man had reclined himself onto a nearby chair in the corner of the room, just a couple miles out from the Einzbern manor and in some nondescript hotel near the river of Fuyuki.

"Ber… serker…" came the voice of his… ally. What a bland word to use, but it was the closest that came to mind, given the circumstances.

Kariya Matou was an absolute mess, huddled into the shade as the worms underneath his skin slithered ever more. He looked more like a corpse bloated with maggots just about ready to pop at any sudden moment.

The Servant frowned, such a thing seemed quite painful. Nevertheless, he turned back to his work without a moment's notice, eyes scanning through the collection of works he prepared since the beginning of the War along with the new additions that had been graciously donated to him.

Information was power, and power was necessary to win any war.

Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, Tokiomi Tohsaka, Kirei Kotomine, Waver Velvet, Kariya Matou, and…

Of course, Kiritsugu Emiya wouldn't have any information on himself. Nevertheless...

"You only have two more Command Seals, Kariya dear," he flipped through the next page, "I would ask you not to abuse them for the time being. You'd be useless to me without your Servant."

Caster stared out the window to his left, his master was probably having the night of his life right now, "And also keep yourself out of sight, you're already in an unstable condition as is."

A splash hit him on the back of the neck, a dab of the finger and bringing it to the light confirmed that it was indeed blood, "And what about you, Caster? Y-your master hasn't shown himself either."

"He's preoccupying himself with more important matters for the time being. He's able to move about at night without giving off a powerful mana presence." Caster readjusted his glasses, looking through the lenses and frowning at a fleck of lint on the glass. Grabbing a nearby handkerchief, he cleaned it and returned the now immaculate instrument to his face, balanced perfectly on his ears, "Do not put yourself in harm's way again, understood?"

There was a… well, not a bond. More of a mutual understanding between a Master and someone he could easily snap his neck like a turkey's wishbone before having the chance to call out his mad knight.

"You'll have your revenge," Caster chuckled silently to himself.

Kariya nodded, pulling himself to his feet and making his way to the window, "I will, and then I'll kill that piece of shit who took Sakura."

Now that got his attention, "Oh? And who took Sakura?"

He didn't care who this "Sakura" person was, but the emotion was so… raw! Unfiltered! It simply made his skin crawl in ecstasy at the emotion.

"Tell me more about this man," coaxed the Servant, "He sounds well involved with your personal affairs, perhaps maybe even the reason why you joined this War?"

There it was. That flash of the eyes, that tightening of the skin around frustrated lips! Oh… it was almost breathtaking. Kariya Matou loved somebody, and this man took that dear dear someone from him.

It was a shot in the dark, but the Servant was a smart enough man to make his guesses accurately.

Perhaps he had dove in a bit too deep, Kariya's eyes flickered thither and hither through the room before laying back, relaxing himself in some vain attempt as to not anger the blood worms writhing beneath his skin, "Why do you care?"

"I have my reasons. Please take a seat, Kariya, I don't bite," Caster patted a nearby seat, waiting for the man to shift over and do so, "See, you helped me in such a wonderful way this night. Your Berserker had assisted in putting a nearby Master out of commission, someone who would've been a detriment to your own Servant."

Before the broken Master could open his mouth, a finger was placed to his lips with a quiet shush.

"Forgive me, but it's no one you really care about. Just the Master of Lancer, that's all," Caster picked up the recently acquired folder and passed it off to Kariya.

That dear Magus Killer had such a delectable amount of information. He probably had copies of these files anyway, so it's not like the man was stealing them during Emiya's fight with the Magus, right?

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You," Caster pointed at the man with the folder before setting it back down on Kariya's lap, "Are needed for one more favor of mine before I grant that wish of your own, and maybe I'll take care of this other villain who has your dear Sakura."

He watched as Kariya began to contemplate this. He could almost hear the clicking of gears turning in his head as the worm-ridden man looked back at Caster, "What do I need to do?"

"Compared to the rest of the Masters, you're weak, broken, using a deranged Servant to even compensate for your weaknesses in this war," Caster watched as Kariya glared at him from the verbal beatdown being given.

Regardless, he continued.

"But therein lies an opportunity, Mages are pompous men and women that seek to compensate for their arrogance by subjugating the lesser under their heel, and there just so happens to be a man of such nature, broken as he may be as well but no less stubborn."

"What're you getting at?"

"You need bait to catch a fish," Caster explained as though he was saying it to a child, "And you have enough worms in you to catch two."

Kariya Matou looked down at the folder on his lap, opening it up to find the sneering face of Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, the one he assumed Tohsaka would have before he'd have Berserker crush it into paste. Another flip of the page revealed… what was her name? How do you even pronounce that?

_Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri._

"What was the name of this other man that's been troubling your burdened mind?" Caster asked, a quizzical tilt of his head spoke of his curiosity.

"Zouken," Kariya spat the name like it was poison, closing the folder and getting up from his seat, "Matou Zouken."

Caster's grin only grew wider, "Did he happen to go by the name of Makiri at some point?"

Kariya Matou recognized that expression: Familiarity.

**-oOo-**

Assassin was in far less than a stellar mood, Kirei could tell as soon as he headed down to the church basement. He found the black-suited Servant leaning against a nearby wall, arms crossed and staring at the Executor behind his mask.

No... not at him. Kirei looked down at his hand, tracing it back to Assassin.

"Yeah," the Servant seemed to have read his mind on the matter, his voice parsing every word with an almost irritable manner, "That."

"Is there an issue?"

The Servant stared at his Master for a moment before sighing, "What's your deal with Saber's Master?"

Kirei stopped what he was doing, glancing to Assassin out of the corner of his eye as he awaited his answer, the Servant pressed further, "Was the reason so important that it was worth a command seal?"

"It's… complicated," the priest said, looking up to see that Assassin didn't look particularly satisfied with his answer, "There are questions that I need to have answered, perhaps a reason as to why I was even chosen by the Grail to become a Master in the first place."

"And you believe the so-called Magus Killer has these answers?" Assassin queried, "As for your reasons to have me spy on his allies as well, is that part of your search too?"

"I… don't know," Kirei shook his head, looking particularly troubled by his Servant's passive interrogation, "I suggested that plan to Tokiomi. It was a purely logical step to have you get close to one of the strongest Servants in the War, so it would make sense for him to agree to it."

That seemed to satisfy Assassin, but the Servant had a few more questions, "What about your involvement at the Einzbern Castle? I sensed your presence after Berserker and Archer's slugging match."

"Simply an attempt to get answers directly," Kirei waved off the question, almost sounding disappointed, "It was in vain nevertheless."

"Putting yourself in harm's way wasn't a particularly smart idea, Master," Assassin shook his head, "I know you don't particularly care about my wish, but even then, I'm still an integral part of Tohsaka's plan. Neither of us would be of any use with you killed and myself without a Master when a Servant hasn't even been removed from the battle yet."

"Then I'll simply take better precautions."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Assassin shook his head, straightening back up and turning away, "I'm going to find Tokiomi and let him know what I found."

"Oh? And what did you find?"

"More information about Caster, it's not much of your concern," the Servant shrugged his shoulders, "And one last note… I'd prefer if your Command Seal didn't extend to killing Saber and her Master's allies as well, be more specific next time."

Kirei blinked, "I never specified no harm would come to them. You must be mistaken."

For a moment, Kotomine watched as Assassin seemed to freeze in place, pondering the revelation for what seemed like an eternity. Rather than respond, the Servant merely took to spirit form and disappeared.

Gears began to turn in Kirei's head as he began to wonder about his own Servant's motives, perhaps even the trivializing thoughts of why he had even spared Saber in the first place.

It was… fascinating.

The Priest's lips tilted into a grin without him even noticing, almost unable to hear the quiet footsteps approaching him from behind.

Quickly turning around, the Executor's eyes narrowed at the sight, body tensed as the intruder continued to draw closer. The man's command seals began to glow as Kirei grimaced, "You-"

"Oh do be calm, Master of Assassin," the stranger only said, "I only wish to talk…"

Kirei flickered to the intruder, eyeing him up and down to see that he was disarmed nor did he appear strong enough to even fight in a direct battle, even against the Executor.

But even then…

The Command seals dimmed, Kirei's grimace was still held, but he made no attempt to retaliate, "Talk."

* * *

That night, Assassin sat upon a rooftop.

Of course, he wasn't a liar, he had entered the Tohsaka manor and reported his findings to Tokiomi, even managing to provide a detailed sketch of what he was able to gleam from Caster's appearance.

Despite his stone-cold visage, the Spartan let out a slight chuckle to himself, ironic that keeping a consistent watch on Saber and her Master had paid off with Caster getting cocky, only for him to get away and place himself on the defensive once more. Assassin failed spectacularly in that regard, but left with even more information than before.

From what he was able to see, Caster's appearance bore fashion similarly to middle-class European apparel during the late-1800s to early-1900s, either German or British. Young with silvery white hair and stormy grey eyes. Were it not for the eyes, Tokiomi would've deemed Caster to have been some offshoot Einzbern homunculus that managed to ascend to the Throne, but even then the theory seemed too absurd with the evidence given.

_A homunculus becoming a Servant? How absurd!_ The magus exclaimed.

And the fact that the Servant had summoned several types of lackeys to fight on his behalf was even more of a troubling matter. He was a man who empowered and sent others to do his battles for him.

A Servant couldn't bring carry anything with them as soon as they turned to spirit form, so the papers Caster had decided to look through were left behind, implying a possible photographic memory, either as a Servant skill or as merely part of their own Saint Graph.

Assassin tapped the flat of his dagger against his chin in thought. He looked down, seeing that he was now dressed in his civilian clothes, and withdrew a lighter and box from his own pocket. Of course, a Servant couldn't bring much when in Spirit form, but exceptions could be made.

Using a Noble Phantasm for something as mundane as this? How juvenile.

The Servant withdrew a cigarette from the box, holding it up to eye level and wondering what was so tempting about these little cancer sticks that history seemed to hold so dearly.

Eh, he was a Servant, a Heroic spirit, they didn't have to eat nor did they need to sleep, but the option was available. Nevertheless, a Servant had a stomach to eat but not gain weight, so it made sense to the Spartan for him to have lungs and not suffer from the effects of smoking, right?

Assassin burned the tip of the stick with a lighter, a simple steel case with gold leaf where the hinges met, and inhaled. Smoke filled his lungs and a taste that could only be described as "tar-like" left his lips, coughing slightly as he did so. He removed the cigarette from his lips and extinguished it on the concrete roof.

"Not your taste, huh?" a familiar voice spoke behind him. Assassin turned around to see someone he didn't think he'd expect to meet in person.

"Archer," the Spartan nodded.

"Assassin," the giant nodded back, "I followed you over here, so I decided to pay a visit. I heard you spoke with my Master as well."

The Servant of the Dagger nodded, "Reported my findings to him, Caster's starting to become a real pain in the ass lately."

"And so you decided to indulge in this modern world's pleasures I see. How very progressive of you, Assassin," Archer grinned, still decided to stand, towering over the Spartan by several heads, "I'm catching up to you as well with all the identity searching, Assassin. Found out Berserker's True Name in the process."

Noble Six sighed, "Good for you, but what're you here for, Archer? If I recall now, I think this is the first time we've actually met in person. Aside from..."

Experiencing an arrow through the skull and living to remember it was definitely not a good feeling.

"We're allies, are we not?" the Servant of the Bow grimaced at the word, "I've worked alongside men just like you, though you're more uptight than most I've met, so it's a surprise to see you relax."

Huh, now that he thought about it, Assassin did seem a tad more unedged, but he pressed on further, "And we'll be enemies soon after the rest of the Servants are taken care of."

"I look forward to it," Archer chuckled, "Though I don't expect you'll be able to scratch me with what I've seen from you so far, or lack thereof."

The Spartan shrugged his shoulders, "Who knows? I may surprise you."

Archer hummed to himself in thought, "Interesting… you've changed, haven't you?"

That got Assassin's attention, "Changed?"

"This is the first official time we're meeting," the gargantuan Servant pointed it out, "But the way my Master described you, you sounded methodical, precise, and quite cold."

Assassin raised an eyebrow, "Are you saying I'm not?"

"Of course not, but it seems like you're starting to divide yourself… if that's the best way to describe it"

"Like how Berserker did to you?"

Archer seemed to huff at that comment, almost a pout if it didn't belong on that giant's face, "Very funny, Assassin. I guess you'll figure out soon. Until next time."

With that, Tokiomi's Servant disappeared, leaving Assassin alone once more with his thoughts.

"Divide myself, huh?" Six shook his head at that before looking back down at the box of cigarettes beside him. He thought back to his old memories, before he was a Servant, when he was simply just a Spartan.

Memories of Noble Team flashed through his mind. Things were so much more simple. He was on one side while enemy was on the other, none of this whole battle royale bullshit. Put a gun in his hands and the mission was clear, rather than just being tied to a Master to even properly function. Hell, one of his more… reputable Noble Phantasms could only ever even appear with enough mana pumping through his system. It was once a solid piece of machinery assigned to him… and now it was part of his legend.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking things…" Noble Six sighed to himself.

The Servant of Kotomine glanced down at the city lights below. Despite being an Assassin, looking into his own skillset had informed him of an unnaturally high aptitude for Independence. He didn't know exactly why, but he still had it anyway.

From what he was able to perceive, he had enough in him to persist for two days. He'd continue to keep an eye out for any signs of Caster, but…

Assassin disappeared, dematerializing into Spirit form as he descended into the city of Fuyuki.

It wouldn't kill him to explore, would it? Besides, this was the first time he's ever been to Earth, and he knew just the way to spend it.

Never let it be said that a Spartan didn't know how to mix work with play.

**-oOo-**

Zouken Matou was a patient man, willing to wait for centuries for a plan to even culminate towards his goals. Every step carefully planned and every pawn tuned towards that objective. Even in the body he was in now, if it could even be called one at all, was enough to be sustained for another extended length of time so long as he can feed off of a few outside sources.

The faint yet constant buzzing and slithering of worms and winged familiars were a constant reminder of the plans he had set in motion.

Tokiomi Tohsaka was a fool to give his daughter to the old man, but the Matou was nevertheless grateful for his development. His plan for eternal life would be ever closer to him than originally intended.

The aged man looked out the window, seated on a nearby sofa. Zouken wondered what Kariya was up to right now, or perhaps he was dead and his Servant long gone and returned to the Throne.

It made no difference anyway, that boy would at least provide some modicum of entertainment if he came back. Whether he won the Grail or not, it was a decisive victory for the old man and he'd have no need for Sakura at that point.

She'd be damaged goods for Kariya, but she'd be alive regardless.

_Knock knock knock_

Three taps to his door caught his ears, catching the old magus by surprise for the first time in a while. Who broke into his house and managed to deactivate his Bounded field?

"Who's there?" Zouken demanded, playing up the frail old man act, "I should warn you that even though I'm an old man, I'm still capable of defending myself."

The fact that they broke into his house and had the audacity to introduce their presence to the man either meant they were overconfident, extremely idiotic, or they meant no harm to him at all.

He was met with silence, but there were no sounds of footsteps walking away. Zouken grimaced, preparing an attack just in case as he learned the meaning of the action, or lack of such, given, "Enter."

The door slowly opened and a tall figure stepped forth, their silhouette telling the magus that this supposed burglar was a man, "What do you want from me? I have nothing for you to steal."

"Oh don't be like that. It's not a matter of what you can offer me," the man hidden in darkness finally spoke, his voice a low baritone voice, his arm trailed over and flicked on a light switch, revealing himself before Zouken, "But rather what I can offer you."

Zouken blinked once… twice, his eyes grew wide before rubbing them with his hands, surprised once more, "You're…"

"Caster now, a so-called Heroic Spirit to partake in the Holy Grail War," the man nodded, running a hand through his silvery hair before flashing a grin to the magus, "It's so good to see you again, Makiri."

* * *

The two sat down in the dining room, Magus and Servant seated across from the table with a fresh cup of tea in either of their hands.

"Forgive me if I didn't have any Earl Grey, old friend, but I do hope it's to your liking anyway," Zouken Matou apologized to the man.

The Servant nodded and sipped his tea, scrunching his face up as he peered into the cup, "Blegh, it's not too bad, but it's a shame this country has no taste."

Both men enjoyed their silence for the next few minutes, quietly taking a rare opportunity to enjoy the moment while it still lasted. Caster often preferred a more… chaotic environment, but a man like him still had to be patient with these kinds of things.

Zouken, on the other hand, was still wary. If there was anyone on this planet that he had known over the centuries of living (if he could even call it such), this man now summoned as a Heroic Spirit into the Caster class for this particular war was someone that always had a trick under his sleeve.

Especially if he was seeking the old worm now of all times.

"So," Caster set aside his teacup, pushing it off to the side with a single finger, "You probably have a few questions for me, yes?"

"Maybe a few," the old man shrugged his shoulders, "What bewilders me is that you're able to be summoned as a Servant at all, much more even earn a title on the Throne of Heroes."

It was the Servant's turn to shrug, "It's to my belief that a Heroic Spirit has to be remembered for their deeds and the mystery that surrounded their life for them to even sit upon the Throne. Considering your age, you've heard the stories haven't you?"

"I've read the book," the Matou patriarch shifted his head, looking at the bookshelf on the other end of the hallway, looking at the title of the book sitting on the middle shelf, "I found it well-structured, if rather misconstrued. The tales told none of your more... macabre depictions."

"Oh pah!" the man waved off, "I consider it a double edged sword. Without the mystery, I wouldn't even be here, even if my more accurate depictions would've made me stronger as a Servant."

A snap of his fingers and a book appeared in his hand, a large tome bound in leather with a spine colored in red velvet.

"Your Noble Phantasm, I presume?" Zouken raised an eyebrow.

Caster shook his head, "Nay, Makiri- I can call you Makiri, right?"

"I go by Zouken nowadays," the magus waved it off, "It doesn't matter to me, old friend."

"Don't be like that, Mak- Zouken," the Servant corrected himself, "It's better to 'keep up with the times' as it's so put. But to answer your question… yes and no."

"Explain."

"I shan't divulge in the name, but its power relies on… forbiddence, or stagnation, it depends on the interpretation," Caster explained, "My Class skills allow me to create a territory or fashion items to my liking, preferably to objects that benefited me in life."

He set the book on the table, "My Noble Phantasm brings forth old and forgotten techniques of magecraft. Be they long past or recently dead. Unfortunately, it can't come close to anything to the so-called Age of Gods, but it has its uses, " Caster then tapped a finger on the untitled tome, "This book is a rather recent addition to my library."

"Oh?" Zouken leaned forward, inspecting the first book from a better angle, "The texture seems familiar. How far back does it date?"

"Merely a century or two, its age eludes me," Caster pushed the book next to his empty teacup, "The technique of Doll-crafting was exemplary work from the Ainsworth family, I'm fortunate for their demise. Lest I'd have to rely on… traditional familiars."

Caster shuddered at the word. He wasn't particularly fond of Magecraft, seeing it as rather a means to an end, ironically enough, but it did have its purposes.

The Servant picked up the book and waved it away to his collected with a simple gesture of his hand, "I merely wanted to show you what I was capable of."

"Well, there's no need to gloat, _Caster_ ," Zouken shook his head in amusement, "You've already beaten me in immortality now with that newfound youth of yours."

Caster laughed, "I'd probably be a much older man as an Archer, but alas, my foes seem to deprive me of my boons."

"Indeed," the magus nodded before realizing something, "How did you find me anyway? For once I doubted that boy was still alive and kicking."

"Your descendent, Kariya if I recall correctly, surprises me too with that bloody constitution of his," Caster noted with a tinge of amusement in his voice, "He's off doing some of my dirty work with that mad Servant of his for me. If I'm right, my Master would be able to pick two unfortunate souls off while their Servant is busy with Berserker."

"Your Master?"

"Ah yes, I haven't told you about Ryuunosuke yet, dear me," the man chuckled darkly to himself, "The boy has a lot of potential, maybe not as a magus but most definitely under my tutelage. Soon he'll grow from a serial killer to a full-blown master of the arts!"

The old magus watched as Caster's chuckles turned into full laughter, mostly in joy, "I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself, but what does this have to do with me?"

Zouken watched as Caster's grin shifted into a grimace, rarely was the man ever truly upset over certain affairs, but the old magus knew that this was a troubling matter that concerned him.

"There's an issue over a certain Servant that tries to dampen my progress in the grand scheme of things, and having gone over several… trivialities concerning the Holy Grail, I need your help," Caster made his way across the table, kneeling over until he was at eye level with the magus.

"It won't happen now, but sometime in the future, I will need you in a… _significant_ part of my plans. After Lancer and his masters are taken care of, I'll rid myself of Kariya and his mad dog. Afterwards, I just need to convince one more to tip the scales in my favor. All he needs is a little... push."

Zouken contemplated the situation he was placed into. Despite his nature, Caster was someone he knew he could trust, even knowing that the Servant would spare him if he refused.

Still though…

"What would you have me do?"

Caster sighed, seemingly relieved by the old man's answer, "Well, it's quite simple..."

**-oOo-**

_The following day._

_***RING RING RING RING!*** _

"I-wha?"

_***RING RING RING RING!*** _

"Oh no! Where is it, where is it? I knew I left it here somewhere-"

_***RING RING RING RING!*** _

"It's in here, Iri."

"Oh! Thanks Saber… um..."

_*Beep*_

"H-h- _Ahem!_ " the white-haired woman coughed, "Hello?"

"Hey… Irisviel right?" the voice spoke on the phone, "It's me, remember?"

The woman's eyes widened, the familiar voice finally sinking in, "Oh! Thom, it's you."

"Of course it's me, I'm the one that called obviously," Saber, not hearing the call, gave the woman beside her a look as she began to flush red, "Is your girlfriend there too? Put her on speaker."

"We're not-" Irisviel blushed even further, pouting angrily at the man laughing loud enough for even Saber to hear, "Which button is it again?"

"It should be the one that looks vaguely like a microphone," Irisviel clicked the button, "I heard a click. Testing, this thing on? Y'all lovely ladies read me loud and clear?"

"I… copy?"

"We can hear you clearly, Thom," Saber answered bluntly.

"Ha! That's what I like to hear," the man on the other end of the phone sounded eager, "Anyway, how've you been? I know it's been a couple days now, but I'm just wanting to check up on the two of you since that whole car debacle."

"We've been doing fine, our stay in Japan's been great so far. What about you?"

"I'm glad you asked. It's been a while, but I thought that it'd be nice to hang around with some new people, especially you two," his slightly muffled voice continued to speak through the phone, the sound of crinkling caught the pair's attention, "There's lots of stuff to do in Fuyuki to do in one day, obviously. So… I thought it'd be nice if you two came over to Fuyuki for some time, it's not really much but I brought some stuff to pass the time. Are you free?"

"I…" Irisviel turned to Saber, who in turn gave her a concerned look. The young woman then turned back to the phone, "I'm not really sure…"

Silence was all that came from the phone for the next few seconds before a shuffling sound rang through, "Alright, I understand."

"You do?" Saber raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," the man on the other line answered, his voice rather lax, "It's totally fine, you're probably busy or up with something right now, so no need to worry. If you change your mind, I'll still be here at the park for the next couple hours."

"Alright, thanks for calling, Thom."

"No prob Iri, talk to you later."

_Beep._

The Einzbern woman frowned as she pocketed her phone, turning back to Saber with a frown, who merely looked back in response, "Did I say anything rude?"

Arturia shook her head, "I don't think so, he seemed to understand that we were busy."

"I guess, but…" Irisviel looked around the manor, the walls and floors utterly destroyed by the battle hours prior, "Kiritsugu said he'd be looking for a new place for us to stay in the meantime."

The Servant of the sword nodded in response, looking down in thought, "With the manor in ruins, it'd be utterly defenseless and we would be open to even easier attacks in this state. And especially this far away from the city, even an enemy Servant wouldn't be opposed to attack in broad daylight."

"So you're saying we'd be safer away from here for the moment," Irisviel quickly deduced, her concerned expression slowly shifting into a smile, "And so long as we're not out in the open at night and you're with me, I'd be safe. That sounds like something Kiritsugu would think of, right?"

Saber's expression started to match Irisviel's as they turned towards the demolished front door of the manor, the car seemed to be waiting outside for them. The Servant held out her hand towards her companion, "Shall we?"

"Of course."

* * *

Thom found himself seated at a wooden bench for the first hour or three, tugging at the scarf around his neck and looking up at the trees. It was a chilly day and the towering flora were already bare of their leaves even as the year was approaching winter. It'd probably look much better in the spring, he could only imagine a thousand leagues of cherry blossoms scattered around him.

The young man looked down at the crumpled set of bags by his feet. Lifting them up with ease, he placed a hand on the plastic containers to feel that they were still warm to the touch.

It'd been an hour since Thom prepared the food, so he was still surprised that it was even warm to begin with… maybe this was a bad idea, right?

This was probably a waste of time anyway.

Thom stood up from his seat, reaching down to pick up the bags. Before he could even turn to leave, the rapid sound of footsteps caught his ears. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and turned around to see… Saber and Iri?

Rather, they seemed to realize he was just about to leave and decided to give chase, "Thom!"

The young man relaxed and lowered his arms, holding the bags at his side as the two women finally caught up to him.

"So you decided to reconsider?" the young man teased, grinning to the both of them as Irisviel seemed a tad out of breath.

"We…" Irisviel inhaled, straightening herself back up after catching her breath, "We realized we weren't as busy as expected. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Oh don't worry about it," he waved off her apology, flashing a playful grin, "I was just letting myself enjoy the sights."

The man watched as the woman opposite of him pulled the edges of her jacket closer to exposed regions, Irisviel smiled a bit sheepishly, "It's a bit chilly, isn't it?"

Thom sighed, giving the woman an equally bashful grin in return as he shrugged, "Didn't expect it to be this cold out when I got here, but I guess that's my fault since we're still here to begin with. If there's something wrong, we can go someplace else."

"No no," Irisviel shook her head, "It's... it's fine. You said there was someplace for us to sit?"

"Mm," Thom nodded, turning towards a lone wooden table hidden underneath a wreath of trees, "It's not much, but if I knew it'd be colder, I'd have just asked to come to your place with all this."

"I'd prefer you didn't," Irisviel shook her head, "It's… under renovations."

The man nodded his head once more, humming as he took in the information. Thom then turned to Saber, "How 'bout you? You holding up alright?"

"I'm fine, if that's what you're asking," Saber answered curtly, "Why do you ask?"

Their companion scrunched his face up in thought, "I dunno, really. You just seemed a bit… troubled is all."

"It's none of your concern," Saber responded, her face still neutral.

Thom opened his mouth to respond, but closed it at the last second, shaking his head to himself as the three made their way to the table. The taller of the three set the bags on the table, pulling the dishes from their bags and unwrapping the plastic seals off. Irisviel and Saber had already taken their seats as Thom set the plates and wares for the two as he continued to prepare.

"It's good today's not windy," Thom mumbled to himself, something the latter two quickly agreed with as the food was finally unveiled for them. Most of it was rice and meat dishes, it was quite a sight for Irisviel. As for Saber…

"Um… Saber, are you alright?" Irisviel asked her companion, who seemed intensely hyperfocused on the food seated before her, "Saber?"

That seemed to get her to snap to attention, blinking suddenly as she turned to the white-haired woman, "Y-yes, Iri?"

Irisviel stared at her partner, leaning in a bit closer for a moment. Saber could do nothing but stare back, a slight bit unnerved by the closer proximity before the former pulled away, giggling to herself while Saber frowned.

The flushed look on her face didn't help one bit either.

"Oi, Iri, don't tease Saber, everyone's gotta eat sometime, right?" Thom chuckled to himself as he hopped over his own seat and sat down with a quiet thump. The two on the opposite end were caught off guard by the sudden weight shift as the table jumped for a moment before settling back down, with Thom looking quite calm all the while, "Anyway, let's dig in."

Despite the cold weather, most of the food was still warm to the touch, the meals filling them with that warmth made the event a pleasing experience, however short it may have been.

While Saber practically engulfed her meal with all the speed and intensity of a singularity, Irisviel had been trying to eat her own with a pair of chopsticks to… less than favorable results, trying to mimic the man sitting on the opposite side's way of holding them.

About an hour passed as the three simply enjoyed themselves, Saber had long since devoured her meal, along with several refills before she decided to speak up first, "Thom, would you mind if I asked you a personal question?"

Thom paused in mid-chew as he looked back up at the smaller girl, holding up a hand as he then swallowed, coughing lightly and patting his chest before resuming composure, "Yeah sure, what's up?"

"I… noticed your disposition and the way you carry yourself so… methodically," Saber's words seemed to pique the man's interest.

"Oh? Perhaps an observation to pick at my brain, maybe?" Thom smirked, his grin turning into slight snickering as Saber blanched slightly at the imagery he had given her before shaking her head, "Sorry, you were saying?"

"I wish to ask you… were you ever a soldier previously?"

Thom froze, blinking in surprise and letting the words sink in for a moment before he set his chopsticks down, giving the woman a slight tilt of the head, his expression unchanging, "How'd you figure it out?"

"It was just an observation," Saber closed her eyes, "There's an odd yet practiced coordination in your steps, no matter how casual you try to make it out to be. Aside from that, your build is similar to..."

The girl silently sighed to herself, trying to pick the words carefully without exposing any general idea of her identity without confusing the poor man, "...some people I knew who fought in war."

The man inhaled sharply, heavily wanting to suddenly take interest in his food, "I… huh, even from what little to go off of, you have some damn good intuition."

Saber made no response to that, not breaking her gaze with the man.

Thom pushed his plate aside, deciding to take no more interest in it as he turned his attention to Saber, "But yeah, you're right. I was a serviceman for some time, mostly just me and a couple others I knew fought against some guys that we didn't really know much about, just that they were the bad guys and they did bad things. However, those are memories that I would like to stay… untouched."

The man closed his eyes, sighing once more as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "You can have the rest of whatever's on my plate, I'm not really hungry anymore."

Realization quickly dawned on the shorter blonde woman as she was about to open her mouth to respond before closing it, realizing she had inadvertently unearthed… unpleasant memories.

Thom opened his eyes, realizing that everyone was being uncomfortably quiet, to see Saber looking away from him and bearing a slightly flushed look on her still-stoic expression.

Yet the man knew it was a facade.

It was his turn to speak, lifting a hand in reassurance with a small smile on his face, "It's alright, Saber, you didn't cause any offense and I know you didn't mean to."

Eyes flickered in his direction before the face turned to match him. Though he didn't see it, he could almost hear the sigh of relief that she had tried to hide before her face returned to that same expression, this time with a small upturn upon her lips, her smile matching his before it too faded, "Very well then, thank you regardless for answering me and for forgiving my intruding upon your personal history."

"No need, there's nothing to forgive," he passed the plate to Saber before standing back up, taking up the empty bags and crumpling up into his hands, "I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't hungry."

Saber looked down at the plate, her eyebrows furrowing at the meal given. Normally as a king, Arturia wouldn't be one to take someone else's leftovers, but she had made her own mistake of intruding upon his past… it would be unkind to simply ignore a request given to her as a knight.

Irisviel turned to Saber, now bringing the food to her lips, smiling as the two had made peace as quickly as the issue had been formed.

Besides, it would be indecent to waste food so well-made as this.

As soon as the blonde had finished, Thom had discarded the empty disposable plates and bags into a nearby trash can. Saber and Irisviel gave their thanks to Thom, who merely smiled and thanked them for coming. Before long, the two departed, leaving the man all alone within the park.

Thom waved at the two one last time as they left, their car driving off into the distance. He looked around one last time, seeing that he was truly alone without witness.

No one, it was just him.

With that all being said, the man decided to take his leave, his own business concluded as he disappeared from sight to go about his own day.

However, a slight frown crossed his face as he began to walk away, hands in his pockets as a single word found itself embedded in his mind.

" _Why?"_

He… didn't know.


End file.
